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Xerox University Microfilms 900 North Zoob Rood Ann Aibor, Mlchlflin 4S100 76-24,672 REIDL, Jack Eric, 1941- SCHEMA AND CORRECTION: AN APPROACH TO SHIP IMAGERY IN GERMAN BAROQUE POETRY. The Ohio State University, Ph.D., 1976 Literature, modern

Xerox University Microfilmst Ann Artor, Michigan 48108

@ Copyright by

Jack Eric Reidl

1976 SCHEMA AND CORRECTION: AN APPROACH TO

SHIP IMAGERY IN GERMAN BAROQUE POETRY

DISSERTATION

Presented in Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements for

* • the Degree Doctor of Philosophy in the Graduate

School of The Ohio State University

Jack Eric Reidl, B.A., M.A., 3.Ed.

* * » * #

The Ohio State University

1976

Reading Committee: Approved by

Hugo Bekker Wolfgang Fleischhauer Gisela Vitt-Maucher

Depart; i German ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I would like to acknowledge the many teachers and scholars who

throughout the years kept ray interest J ji the pursuit of higher knowledge alive.

I would like to express my gratitude to my parents, John and

Grete Heidi. Without their encouragement and financial aid I

could not have completed my education.

I would like to thank my wife, Margaret, who knows better than anyone else the hours and offort it took to steer thiB study

into its final port.

Finally, I would like to apologize to my former colleagues and

friends at University College whom X used as sounding boards.

ii VITA

July 26, 19^1 . . . Born - Gyonk, Hungary

1964...... B.A., University of Toronto, Toronto, Ontario, Canada

196^-1965 ..... Graduate School, University of Toronto, Toronto, Ontario, Canada

1966... . M.A., University of Toronto, Toronto, Ontario, Canada

1 9 6 5 - 1 9 6 9 . Teaching Associate, Department of German, The Ohio State University, Columbus, Ohio

1969-1970 ..... Teacher, Glenview Park Secondary School, Galt, Ontario, Canada

1970-1971 ...... Teaching Associate, Department of German, The Ohio State University, Columbus, Ohio

1971-197 ^ . Academic Adviser, Assistant Supervisor/ Program Co-ordinator, University College, The Ohio State University, Columbus, Ohio

1 9 7 5 . . B.Ed.,‘ Faculty of Education, University of Toronto, Toronto, Ontario, Canada

1975 . Teacher, Grey Highlands Secondary School, Flesherton, Ontario, Canada

iii TABLE OF CONTENTS

Page

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS...... ii

VITA ...... iii

INTRODUCTION...... 1

Chapter

I. THE CLASSICAL AND PATRISTIC TRADITION OF NAUTICAL IMAGERY...... 13

II. MINOR ASPECTS OF THE CLASSICAL AND PATRISTIC TRADITION IN GERMAN BAROQUE LITERATURE...... 39

III. THE SHIP OF LIFE...... 59

a. The Ideological and Cultural Environment of the Ship of Life Allegory...... 59 b. New Dimensions in the Basic Tenets of the Allegory of Life...... 61 c. The Receding Use of the Ship of the Church Metaphor...... 6*f d. Basic Tenets of the Ship of Life Allegory . . . ?8 e. The Function of Death in the Soul's Pilgrimage. 8^ f. The Function of Storms in Man's Salvation . . . 98 g. Conclusion...... ll*t

IV. THE SHIP OF LOVE...... 122

a. The Petrarchan Love System...... 123 b. Marriage Poems. ....I ...... 131 c. The Erotic Love System...... 1^2 d. Inherent Value Differences Among the Three Love Systems...... 155

V. THE SHIP OF POETRY...... 162

VI. CONCLUSION...... 179 iv BIBLIOGRAPHY INTRODUCTION

MAN'S PERCEPTION AND EXPRESSION OP REALITY

Si his Geschichte der deutschen Literatur, Newald hypothesizes that the Thirty Years' War engendered in seventeenth century man an attitude toward life characterized by a feeling of helplessness and uncertainty as he is confronted by a situation over which he exerts no control. Newald implies that the frequent recurrence of the sea voyage as a symbol for man's lifo substantiates his contention*

Bis zum Uberdruft wird die Schiffahrt mit Oder ohne Fortunasegol als Lebenssymbol abgewandelt. Damit wird der Sinn des irdischen Lebens in Frage ge- stellt, treten Verganglichkeit und Eitelkeit der Welt in den Vordergrund. Die fliichtige Zeit, das Dahinschwinden, der Blick auf das Ende sind Vor- stellungen und Eracheinungen, die man haufig an- trifft. 1

Although few critics would contest Newald*s view in the main, his argument would be more forceful if he could establish that the sea voyage as a symbol of man's life was indigenous only to this peri­ od in German literature, born of the times and appropriate for the times. But it is not. It is an inherited literary symbol, and

Curtius argues convincingly that in interpreting a poem written before the eighteenth century, a critic should not look for the

"personal experience" on which a particular poem is based, but at the theme the poet chose to treat. The exact manner in which a particular theme should be developed, including acceptable variants, was prescribed by handbooks of rhetoric, which listed the appropri­ ate topics, motaphoricB, tropes, etc., the poet ought to use. Cur- tius concludes that it is therefore impossible to draw any final conclusions about the "real" feelings of an author from his poet- ry. ^ A poet composes a poem on a given theme not because he feels that this theme is a valid expression of reality or truth, but be­ cause poets are expected to make verses about this theme. If Cur­ tius' assertions are valid, then Newald*s inferences drawn from the frequent use of the ship symbol are at best tenuous. The ship symbol is not a valid, truthful expression of Baroque man's predica­ ment, of his attitude toward life. Bather, when writing about the theme of life, it is expected that the ship symbol be used because it is one of the prescribed metaphors for dealing with the topic of life. Newald's claim may be correct, but his proof lacks substance.

On the other hand, one could, of course, question the validity of

Curtius' claims. However, his erudite elucidations, supported by a wealth of examples, are difficult to assail. And yet, it is possible to harmonize Newald*s and Curtius’ apparently contradic­ tory conjectures. To do so, one must examine the nature of man's perception and expression of reality.

Two of the most influential modern studies in visual percep­ tion and art interpretation are E. H. Gombrich's Art and Illusion:

A Study in the._Psychology of Pictorial Representation, and R. Arn- heim's Art and Visual Perception, A Psychology of the Creative Eye. Although both scholars are specifically concerned with a painter’s visual perception, of reality and his subsequent pictorial .repre­ sentation of this reality, their general theories, rooted deeply in the perceptual discoveries and theories of gestalt psychology which are now considered authoritative in this field, are applicable to language and literature as well. E. H. Gombrich explains that we do not learn to see but to discriminate.

’’Perception," it has been recently said, "may be regarded sb primarily the modification of an anti- ciptation." It is always an active process, con­ ditioned by our expectations and adapted to Bitu- ations.... We notice only when we look for some­ thing, and we look when our attention is aroused by some disequilibrium, a difference between our expectation and the incoming message. **•

This discovery is the basis of Gombrich's theory of the "adapted stereotype." He maintains that "without a medium and without a schema which can be molded and modified, no artist could imitate reality" (Gombrich, p. 1*46). When an artist wishes to make a truthful record of a particular, individual form, he does not be­ gin with a visual impression' of the particular form but with his concept or schema of what the universal form ought to be. This schema of the universal form is the stereotype, a "pre-existing blank or formulary" (Gombrich, p. 7J). The distinctive features of the particular object are superimposed onto this formulary, that is, the formulary or schema is corrected to make it conform to the particular object. This process may be compared to that of the police artist-sketching a face from a verbal description. The artist begins with his schema of a typical head and face and then proceeds to change its features until he has captured enough dis­ tinguishing details to make an identification possible. Nor does it matter what the original starting point or stereotype is because it can be modified to meet the demands of the situation.

Y/ithout some starting point, some initial schema, we could never get hold of the flux of experience. Y/ithout categories, we could not sort our impressions. Paradoxically, it has turned out that it matters rela­ tively little what these first categories are. We can always adjust them according to need (Gombrich, p. 88).

According to Gombrich, psychologists have also studied the proce­ dure a person adopts when copying a "nonsense figure" such as an inkblot.

The draftsman tries to first classify the blot and fit it into some sort of familiar schema - he will say, for instance, that it is triangular or that it looks like a fish. Having selected such a schema to.fit the form approximately, he will proceed to adjust it, noticing for instance that the triangle is rounded at the top, or that the fish ends in a pigtail. Copying, we learn from these experiments, proceeds through the rythms of schema and correc­ tion (Gombrich, pp. 73-7|0.

In perception, man needs some initial schema, some category in order to sort out his impressions and cope with the flux of experi­ ence. F. C. Ayer observes: "The trained drawer acquires a mass of schemata by which he can produce a schema of an animal, a flower, or a house quickly upon paper" (Gombrich, p. lU6). Today we can still acquire these schemata in many "How to draw a..." books.

The various schemata that an artist has acquired may not have provisions for certain kinds of information. Although one can not predict how a person reacts if he is confronted with information for which he has no schemata, Gombrich does relate one frequent reaction (Gombrich', p. 8Uff). A group of Chinese art students were taken on a sketching expedition to one of Peking’s old city gates and asked to draw it. Since the Chinese conventions do not include drawing from the object itself, the students could not handle the assignment and finally asked that they be given a pic­ ture postcard of the sight so they would have something to copy.

Since drawing from the object had not been learned, they simply could not do it. One can not claim that these Btudents did not see the gate, they simply lacked the means of expressing what they saw. They had no schema to fit the task. Similarly, in analyzing one of Chian Yee's landscape paintings, Gombrich finds that,

...the relatively rigid vocabulary of the Chinese tradition actB as a selective screen which admits only the features for which schemata exist. The artist will be attracted by motifs which can be rendered in his idiom....the artist will therefore tend to see what he paints rather than paint what he sees (Gombrich, p. 85D.

If the artist does not have an appropriate schema for render­ ing the truth, distortion sets in. As stated previously, when a person is asked to reproduce an inkblot he first classifies it and tries to fit it into an appropriate schema which he then pro­ ceeds to correct. However, if the object he copies differs too much from hiB selected schema, he will make the object fit the

Bchema. One can not create a faithful image of reality out of nothing. Gombrich asserts that,

The familiar will always remain the likely starting point for the rendering of the unfamiliar; an existing representation will always exert its spell over the artist even while he strives to record the truth (Gombrich, p. 82).

In the chapter "Formula and Experience" Gombrich traces the tena­ cious grip of conventions, the power which the tradition exerts upon the artist even when the latter believes that he is creating something unique. Gombrich illustrates^ for example, how Durer's representation of a rhinoceros influenced subsequent representa­ tions "even in natural history books, up to the eighteenth centu­ ry" (Gombrich, p. 8l). One must have learned the trick, .acquired a schema, before one can embark to copy reality. From this it follows that one can only render reality or truth by means of the acquired traditional stereotype. The stereotype, the schema, is, in fact, the reality or truth.

Arnheim concurs with Gombrich'a findings, but clarifies one further vital detail by following up a suggestion of Gustav Britsch who asserted "that the mind in its struggle for an orderly concep­ tion of reality proceeds in a lawful and logical way from the per­ ceptually simplest patterns to patterns of increasing complexity." 5

As as the case with Gombrich, the conjectural basis of Arnheim'& study is theT theory of perception as developed by the gestalt psychologists who suggested that a person only hears, sees and responds to a situation in a meaningful context. A person does not perceive the whole pattern in itB entirety. For example, when a person looks at a chair, he first sees the chair as an integrated whole before becoming aware of such details as its legs, seat or back. In other words, he sees certain outstanding features in an overall pattern into which the other details may be fitted as re­ quired by the particular situation (Arnheim, p. ^2ff).

The mind is accustomed to organizing stimuli into a form or shape that makes up an intelligible whole. In fact, one can not really understand the meaning of the parts until one knows how they fit into the whole pattern. As Arnheim remarks, '‘much of the later experimentation of the gestalt theorists were designed to show that the appearance of any element depends on its place and func­ tion in an overall pattern" (Arnheim, p. 5)» For example, this configuration may be adequately described as three dots, a triangle, or three dots forming a triangle. However, if this con­ figuration appears in a geometric proof it has only one meaning: the mathematical symbol for "therefore." In a painting the same configuration might appear surrounded by more dots, the sum total of which might stand for "bees swarming around a hive." The part can only be interpreted properly by its position in the whole pat­ tern or schema. As stated, Arnheim *s and Gombrich*s studies per­ tain to visual perception and art interpretation, but their general theories about the nature of expression and interpretation are ap­ plicable to language and literature.as well.

Just as the painter needs his many schemata for rendering a truthful account of reality, so does man need a repertoire of linguistic elements or schemata in verbal communication. On the simplest level our linguistic schemata consist of words. The more words we command, the greater is our ability to communicate. If we do not know the words for certain objects, phenomena, ideas, etc., our ability to communicate something about these objects, phenomena or ideas is sorely impeded. As is the case with the painter, distortion sets in and certain information is simply omitted. In ordinary conversation, however, our entire linguistic schemata are seldom brought into play, in fact, we find a very limitod repertoire of prefabricated formulas more than adequate to express our views and opinions. 6. N. Leech remarks,

Although anyone who speaks English has the ability, in theory, to produce and understand an infinite num­ ber of English sentences, in practice we make very limited use of this inventive capacity, finding it easier to rely on a limited repertoire used over and over again. 6

Although the elements of one's linguistic repertoire can range from individual words to entire sentences such as proverbs, Leech sug­ gests that for the greatest part they are segments of three to four words. In conversation one strings two or more of these seg­ ments together to form a completed sentence, and since the segments a given person uses are limited in number, he can manufacture sen­ tences without being consciously aware of what he is doing.

Such prefabricated sentences are an inevitable part of casual, spontaneous communication, which would be intolerably laboured if every word were individually weighed and chosen (Leech, p. 26).

In a formal address, however, we are more careful in our choice of words and our syntax, and in literature we expect that the words and sentences are carefully selected by the artist, that they are not composed of "the mechanical, humdrum, repetitive element in every day communication" (Leech, p. 27) • As a result, a different repertoire of schemata, of poetic techniques, are deemed appropriate for poetic use and the poet must acquire a mass of these appropriate verbal schemata through which he can express his ideas. As Curtius shows, Baroque poets, for example, relied on handbooks of rhetoric to provide them with ready-made acceptable linguistic and metaphor­ ic formulas for expressing their themes. At the same time, if a poet wishes to express his perception of reality, he will use the poetic schemata he has acquired. If the poet does lapse into uti­ lizing commonly used elements of a repertoire, he is being very human and very real, but we tend to perceive his message as trite and diched. Even acceptable poetic techniques, if overused, may become trite, possibly warranting such a reaction on the reader's part as was Newald's response to the tradition of nautical imagery,

"Bis zum UberdruB wird die Schiffahrt mit oder ohne Fortunasegel als Lebenssymbol abgewandelt" (Newald, p. l8).

Curtius' book, Europaische Literatur. is a study of the grip of poetic conventions on the literature before the eighteenth cen­ tury. The-parallels between Curtius' and Gombrich's findings with respect to the role of the stereotype, the schemata, are obvious.

But there is a difference in perspective. Whereas Curtius wishes to depict the unity of the tradition of Western culture in space and time, Gombrich emphasizes that without the tradition there can not be any innovation. As a result, though both agree on the importance of traditions, Curtius finds that because the author uses conventions, it is impossible to draw any valid final inclu­ sions about his real feelings from his poetry, whereas Gombrich insists that the artist can not express his view of reality except through the conventions, for the convention is the only possible means of expressing reality. The studies of the gestalt psycholo­ gists indicate that Gombrich's perspective is the more probable.

Gombrich does not claim that it is impossible to break the spell of the tradition. « * The more we become aware of the enormous pull in man to repeat what he has learned, the greater will be our admiration for those exceptional beings who could break this spell and make a significant advance on which others could build (Gombrich, p. 25).

The citation, however, implies that once such an advance has been made, it in itself will become a new tradition, a new schema for succeeding generations. For the Baroque poets, the inherited symbol of the sea voyage provided one schema whereby they could convey their views on life. As all formulas, it has the potential of becoming a trite cliche, but even cliches are a valid expression of the truth.

Rainer Gruenter has pointed out that a "machtiges, metaphori- sches System" exists in European literature which is founded upon 7 the patristic tradition of Odyssey interpretations. In the fol­ lowing chapter, I shall briefly examine this tradition as well as a portion of the classical tradition in order to establish some of the more prominent "Bestandteile und Bauelemente" of this system 11 which together form the basic pattern or schema of seafaring alle­ gories in European- literature. This fundamental schema, which is the stereotype, is the foundation on which German Baroque poets based their symbolic usage of the sea voyage of life. Only if one knows the overall schema can one discern the adaptations or cor­ rections of the stereotype. Only if one knows the overall pattern, does one understand the importance and role of its individual parts when they appear in isolation. Only if one knows the tradition, can one see the changes in emphasis, the foregrounding or placing into prominence a new aspect, as well as the receding into the background and almost disappearing of a once prominent part of the schema. And it is both the new aspects that are foregrounded as well as the aspects that recede and almost disappear which ulti­ mately determine a person's and a period's perception and expression of reality. FOOTNOTES

^ Helmut de Boor and Bichard Newald, GeBchichte der deutschen Literatur, vol. 5 (Mvinchen: Beck, 1963)1 pp. 1&-19.

Ernst Hobert Curtius, Europaische Literatur und lateinisches Hittelalter (Bern and Munchen: Francke, 19&1> 3rd ed.)j p. ljlif.

^ Curtius, p. 139.

** E. H. Gombrich, Art and Illusion; A Study in the Psychology of Pictorial Representation (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1972), p. 172. Henceforth, I will include the page refer­ ence in the text of the chapter.

Rudolf Arnheim, Art and Visual Perception; A Psychology of the Creative Eye (Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of Cali­ fornia Press, 195*0, P* 6* Prom this point on, I will include the page references -in the text of the chapter.

^ Geoffrey N. Leech, A Linguistic Guide to English Literature (Hong Kong: Dai Nippon Printing Comany Int. Ltd., 1975)1 P» 26. Henceforth, I will include all page references to this book in the text of the chapter.

^ Rainer Gruenter, "Das Schiff; Ein Beitrag zur historischen Metaphorik," in Akten des III. Ihternationalen Germanistenkon- gresses (Amsterdam, 19^5)1 CHAPTER I: THE CLASSICAL AND

PATRISTIC TRADITIONS OF NAUTICAL'IMAGERY

Literary historians and critics generally agree that there exists a tradition of nautical imagery. Fricke, for instance, re­ marks:

In vielfacher Beriihrung rait dem eben behandelten Bildfelde steht das verwandte des M e e r e s und der Seefahrt. Es gehort zu den ver;- breitesten in der Literatur des Barock und der Renaissance und hat eine bis auf Seneca, der es bereits bevorzugt, zuriickgohende Tradition. 2 Similar generalizations can be documented. With a few exceptions, however, the critics generally are not concerned with examining the origin and development of this tradition. R. Gruenter protests a- gainst this lack of scholarly interest.

Diese Bilderwelt verstehen zu wollen, ohne ihre Herkunfte und ihre Erbschaft fixierter Be- deutungen zu priifen, gehort zu den Unverstand- nissen oder doch Missverstandnissen einer litera- turwisBenschaftlichen Fhanomenologie, gegen die, wenn ich mich nicht tausche, der Amsterdarner Kongress schon mit seiner Themenstellung oppo- nieren jrfochte. 5

Gruenter*s study is primarily a re-evaluation of chapters 103 and

108 of Brant's Narrenschiff. He contends that many commentators have overlooked one of Brant's major concerns because they were not acquainted with the tradition of the patristic OdysBey allegories.

13 3A

Why, ho asks, did Brant choose to depict his concept of foolishness by means of a sea voyage?

Erst eine Antwort auf diese Frage wird uns das Verstandnis fur die omnipotente metaphorischo und Bymbolische Bedeutung von Schiff, Meerreise, Schiff- bruch und Hafen ermoglichen, an der das Teilbild der Narrenschiffahrt, das ins Komisch-Sat irische abge- wandelte Bild des naufragium, partizipiert. Der Zusanunenhang, in dem dieses Teilbild steht, wird uns den Sinn der satirischen UmkeKrung seiner iiber- lieferten Grundbedeutung aufschliessen (Gruenter, p. 91).

Gruenter argues that Brant himself draws attention to his knowledge of and participation in the patristic Odyssey allegories in chapter

108. Instead of describing the fool's paradise, the avowed goal of

the trip, Brant gives a moralistic interpretation of theadventures

of Odysseus* The fools are unable to reach their destination be­

cause they do not pay attention, or lack knowledge in using their map, compass and other navigational instruments. Furthermore, the

ship itself is ill equipped for a voyage because it has no mast, rudder or anchor, and is therefore subject to the manifold dangers

of the sea* As a result, the fools suffer shipwreck; Odysseus alone escapes. Says Gruenter:

Odysseus war fur Brant das ideale Gegenbild des Narren, und sein Verhalten in den Schiffbrtichen und VerKeerungen der Seereise das warnende Exempel, das Brant vor den Torichten aufrichtet*... Das Narrische - und das ist das Entscheidende - ist im Warrenschiff nicht nur eine Form des Ungeschick- ten, Unberatenen oder Unsittlichen im Sinne ubler Sitten, sondern vor allem Zustand des Siindigen* Der Narr Brants ist Sunder im Sinne der christ- lichen Heilslehre, und so hat ihn auch Geiler von Kaisersberg in seinen Busspredigten tiber das Narrenschiff verstanden (Gruenter, p. 92)* 15

In the patriatic interpretation of the Odyssey, the myth of Odysseus sailing home came to symbolize the Christian's journey toward the heavenly port, the City of God. But the. Christian can only reach his destination if he sails in the ship of the church.

Die Kirche, die Gemeinschaft der.Frommen, ist das Schiff, das allein keinen Schiffbruch, naufragium, im Meer dear Welt, des saeculura, dem Sitz teuflischer Damonen, erleiden kann. Dieses Schiff, vorgedeutet in der Arche des Alten Testaments, rettet als e c - c 1 e s i a , als Schiff des Heils, das Gott selbst gebaut hat, allein vor den Wassern des endzeit lichen 'Kataklyemos*, des Naufra­ gium orbis, wie die Arche vor der Sintflut (Gruenter, p. 9*0•

The ship of fools is the polar opposite to the ship of the church, and Narragonia to the patria, the heavenly port. Only an under­ standing of the patristic Odyssey interpretation, says Gruenter, will make this relationship clear. Hence when Brant Bees Homer as a poet with didactic purposes - "Homerus hatt disz als erdacht/ Do rait man hett vf f wiszheyt acht" - he not only views Homer as a com­ rade in arms, but he also becomes a successor of the patristic

Odyssey allegorists (Gruenter, p. 91f).

Jons concurs with Gruenter about the significance of the patristic tradition of nautical imagery. He points out that

Fricke's statement cited previously is incomplete, for there also exists:

... eine mindestens ebenso feste, aus der frtih- christlichen patristischen Literatur und roittel- alterlichen Bibelallegorese stammende i/berliefer- ung..., in der Meer, Schiff, Sturm und Fische in einer Anzahl von Bedeutungen fixiert worden sind, 16

die in dem Emblem- und Prediger- lexika unserer Epoch© widerkehren. ^

Jons establishes at least one of the basic traditional meanings of

the sea, the ship and the port.

Eine der Bich in diesem uberlieferungsstrang durchhaltenden, wenn auch in Einzelzugen oft variierenden Grundbedeutungen des Meeres ist, das es als Sinnbild der Welt und dSs Lebens gilt•.■• Gilt daB Meer als Sinnbild fur das Wesen der Welt und des gegenwartigen Lebens, so bedeutet in analoger Weise das von seinen Wellen hin- und hergeworfene Schiff das immer von Gefahren umgebene und daher mit Leid und Sorgen erfullte Leben des Menschen in der Welt: Per Hafen Oder das Ufer sind in der christlichen Allegorik Sinnbilder der Ewigkeit (Jons, pp. 192-195)•

Both Gruenter and Jons, therefore, stress that a critic should be aware of the patristic tradition in seafaring allegories; the for­ mer, in fact, argues that a lack of knowledge of this tradition has resulted in a lack of understanding of one of Brant's prime con­ cerns in his Narrenschiff.

The patristic exegesis of the Christian ship allegories haB been researched extensively by H. Bahner, who stresses that before one can fully comprehend theso allegories one must first seek to understand "wie der antike Mensch Bchon die Seefahrt als solche mit einer aus Todesgrauen und Lebensktthnheit gemischten Stimmung betrachtet hat." ^

Zur See gehen, das bose Meer mit einem ver- achtlich kleinen Holz befahren, ist ein Spiel mit dem Tode, eine unmittelbare Nachbarschaft zum Hades - und darum schon geeignet zum Symbol zu werden .fur die Fahrt des Lebens, die im Hafen des Todes endet (Rahner, pp. ^30-^fjl). 17

Rahner cites several sources which express this ambivalence toward g seafaring. Huxley's study reaches similar conclusions about the ambivalent fooling toward seafaring. The latter maintains that in the Golden Age man believed the land to be his proper element and regarded the ship as a source of many perils. There were two primary reasons why men set out to sea‘r“ to make war or to engage in commerce. Both reasons are manifestations of human greed, and displease the gods. Says Huxley, "the first of all voyages, that was made in the ship Argo, had for its object the. seizure of the

Golden Fleece. This expedition should be a grim warning to later n ages." Furthermore, a sea voyage is an insult to the sea gods, whose supremacy is thus challenged, and the weight of the ship is a source of physical discomfort to the Ocean. The sea gods retali­ ated with storms, waves, etc. Hence, to the Roman poets, the sea was cruel, bitter, deceitful and treacherous. At the same time they were awed and fascinated by its vast expanse; "the sea is both immensum and vastum" (Huxley, p. 120).

The behavior of sailors during a storm is predictable, almost stereotyped.

Faley quotes Sir Charles Fellows saying that the Greeks will quit the helm and leave the vessel a- drift to repeat their prayers and cries of despair. Too often in the Roman poetica tempestas the helms­ man's art is baffled and the oars or ropes drop idly from the hands of the panic-stricken crew.... For good measure the ancient poet may add such hazards as the dangerous proximity of sandbanks and sunken rocks, the sudden and unseasonable descent of dark­ ness, or the fitful illumination of the lightning flash (Huxley, pp. 120-121). 18

When the storm is at its height, the sailor would beseech the gods

to save him from destruction and make solemn vows which are to be

kept if he once more stands on dry land. However, once on land,

the fascination of the sea recaptures his imagination, the memory

of the dangers diminishes, in fact, the dangers become challenging

and attractive, and once more he sets out.

The dangers of the sea, however, claim tho attention of the poets more than its fascination. The water's vast expanse empha­

sizes the alleged fragility of the ship. "The thinner the hull,

the nearer is the sailor to death and that form of death which is

of all the most to be avoided" (Huxley, p. 120). Rahner, too,

cites numerous examples which address themselves to the thickness

of the hull, as for instance Juvenal who wrote about the "auBge- holten Holz, dem sich der Mensch anvertraut, nur um vier Finger

Breite vom Tod entfernt, oder um sieben Finger, wenn die Bohle

stark ist," or Anarchis who remarked, "vier Finger breit soil die

Dicke der Schiff splanke sein: um so viel ist der Mat rose vom Tod

entfernt" (Rahner, p. bjS). The classical sailor is keenly aware

of the fact that in sailing the seas he is toying with death. As

Huxley observes,

Death by drowning, in itself disgusting, is rendered doubly disagreeable because it"robs a man of the due rites of burial and the pious tendance of his grave by his surviving relatives. Moreover, it augments his suffering in the afterlife (Huxley, p. 122).

For those who drown must wait for one hundred years before Charon

will ferry them across the river Styx. To the vicissitudes of the sea is contrasted the tranquility of the harbor. Bonner explores the significance of the port for g both classical and early Christian writers. Though the port on occasion simply represented the end of a journey, it normally was regarded as a refuge where the sailor receives his reward. In a metaphoric sense, any place, thing or person which elicted feel­ ings of tranquility and security could be called a port. Cicero, for instance, used the word port to designate such things as leisure, solitude, the Roman senate, even exile, and Seneca used

"portus" when he spoke of retirement as opposed to the turmoil of a public career. Frequently a patron of the arts was called a port by the grateful artist whom he supported.

One of the most significant metaphoric uses of the port in

Western culture is the reference to death as the harbor in which all life ends. All allusions to death are colored by emotional overtones which may be hopeful, resigned or gloomy, depending on an individual's belief regarding his soul's fate after death. Because the Christian regards death as a joyful experience, the port is imbued with the same connotative value as is the English word

"haven." Contrary to our expectations, however, this connotation doeB not originate with Christianity.

In Euripedes' Bacchae, Dionysus liberates his followers from the delusions, dangers and pollution of the world and leads them to peace and safety, simple joy and felicity. With the growth of

Christianity, the deliverance of a god's disciples from the perilous 20 vicissitudes of the wor^d becomes a central theme which was en­ hanced by the episode of Christ stilling the tempest. The paral­

lels of Christ's act of saving his disciples to the action of Dio­ nysus is unmistakable. The Christian God is merely substituted for a pagan god. Christ's saving act has been superimposed unto an old, existing framework. In fact, even-the details of the allegory of life as a sea voyage which the early Christians employed re­ semble those of pagan antiquity. For instance, in the Christian

"mythology" Christ is the helmsman of the ship, but the idea of a god at the helm is as old as Homer. Later the Dioscuri often appear as the saviors at Bea, and in time there appears the idea that chance has a hand in the success and misfortune of a sea voy- 9 age. As a result, Tyche becomes the helmsman of the ship of life.

Bonner suggests that the ancient Hellenistic tradition of comparing life to a sea voyage is only modified by Christian mythology to the extent that the latter substitutes the objects of its venera­ tion for the divine or demonic personages of the pagan world.

Of the classical seafaring myths, the Odyssey in general, and Odysseus' encounter with the sirens in particular, proved to be the most-popular and fruitful for the patristic allegories, though the others were not forgotten. Rahner states:

Diese todesgefahrliche und zugleich in den Hafen der Heimat fiihrende Seefahrt des Lebens verkorpert sich dem antiken Menschen, auch dem Christen, in der Heimfahrt des Odysseus, der zwischen Hades und Ithaka an der Sireneninsel die Prtifung best eh en' muss (Rahner, p. ^35). 21

In pre-Greek times the sirens were vampirelike creatures who fed on the blood of the dead, but Homer and Hesiod were responsible for beautifying these ugly creatures. Though their original nature was never quite forgotten - Homer still refers to the pile of bones which covers the shores of their island - they become beautiful, erotic, seductive women whose birdlikeJ:alons alone point to their original nature. Furthermore, from the very beginning the sirens were endowed with divine knowledge. Hence they could tempt man with their physical charmB or with their promises of divine know­ ledge.

The specific danger which the sirens presented for the Chris­ tian changed with the history and development of the early church.

At the beginning of the patristic interpretations of their myth, they were deemed the embodiment of knowledge, specifically the know­ ledge of pagan Greek science and philosophy. Clement of Alexandria, for example, interpreted them in this way when he attacked those in the church who demanded that all pagan knowledge be banned, and compared them to the companions of Odysseus.

Mir scheint, die meisten derer, die sich dem Namen der Christen verschrieben haben, gleichen den Gefahrten des Odysseus, indem sie ohne den Sinn fur eine feinere Bildung an die Lehre ... sich heranraachen: sie fahren vorbei, nicht an deh Sirenen, sondern an dem Hhythmus und der Melodie (der griechischen Kultur], sie ver- stopfen ihre Ohren durch Ablehnung des Lernens ..., veil sie genau wissen, dass sie den Weg nach Hause nicht mehr finden wurden, wenn sie nur einmal die Ohren der griechischen Weisheit ... geoffnet hatten (Rahner, p. kz6).

Clement argued that the Christian should study the culture and 22 philosophy of the past ages in order to obtain the wisdom contained in their teachings. He alleged that the Christian knows how to dif­ ferentiate between the useful and the harmful, and he would reject the latter. However, only a man of exceptional merit could listen to the message of Greek philosophy without being seduced by it.

Hence many church fathers argued that.a_Christian should imitate

Odysseus' companions.

"Niemand von denen, die klug zu unterscheiden ver­ st ehen wird die Schonrederei dieser beiden Philo- sophen Platon und Aristoteles dem Heil seiner Seele vorziehen. Nein, er wird gemase jenem alten Mythos sich die Ohren mit tfachs verstopfen und so vor der ihm nachstellenden siissen Gefahr der Sirenen fliehen." Noch der Rhetor Zacharias meint im frlihen sechsten so verfiihrerisch wie Platon und die andern Weisen Griechenlands, "die mit der sussen Lust ihrer Lieder die homerischen Sirenen nachahmen, uo dem willig Zuhorenden die Ohren zu bezaubern. Ha lobe ich roir hochlich jenen Helden aus Ithaka, der mit seiner klugen Unterscheidungsgabe die List der Sirenen be- siegte (Rahner, p. k56).

Ironically enough, the very example the church fathers used to illustrate their point is a part of the very culture they denounced.

In a sense they adhered to Clement's advice and chose those aspects of the pagan culture which were useful for catechistic instruction.

In time, however, the church was no longer threatened by the external forces of its pagan heritage, but by the internal forpes of heresy, and again, only the Christian of exceptional merit was considered to be endowed with the fortitude of listening and study­ ing the heresies without endangering his belief. Hippolytus stated:

Wenn die Horer die Ansichten der Haretiker kennen lernen, die da einem von gewaltigem Sturme auf- gepeitschten Heer gleichen, dann sollten Bie 23

vorbeisegeln, urn den ruhigen Hafen aufzusuchen. Denn dieses Meer 1st voll von wilden Tieren und unbefahrbar - so wie etwa das sizilische Meer, von dem der Mythos geht, dass sich dort der Berg der Sirenen befinde. Odysseus hat es durchsegelt, wie die hellonischen Dichtor sagen, indem er die grau- samen, bosen Bestien gar klug behandelte. ... Mein Bat also fur die, welche sich mit solchen Lehren be- schaftigen, geht dahin: sich mit Riicksicht auf ihre Schwachheit die Ohren zu verkleben und so die Mei- nungen der Haretiker zu durchsegeln (Rahner, p. ^57)-

The song of the sirens now symbolized the seductive threat of heresy, the weapon of Satan. It was the sacred duty of every Christian to fight the forces of heresy.

"Unser Widerpart und unser Kampfgegner ist der Diabolos und seine Damonen", sagt M e t h o - d i o s im Symposion, "darum muss man sich auf- schweben, muss man fliehen die Lockungen und Kunste ihrer schonen Worte, die nur nach aussen im Schein der weisen Zucht glanzen - mehr noch als die Sirenen des Homer (Rahner, p. *+58).

As stated previously, from the very beginning the Birens were in­ vested with divine knowledge, and both pagan culture and heresy represented the temptation of forbidden knowledge. The parallel to the temptation of Adam and Eve where the apple symbolized forbidden knowledge is obvious. The biblical temptation led to the Fall from

Grace, the other temptations resulted in the damnation of the soul.

In time', the aforementioned trait of the sirens ceased to. play a prominent role and their trait of-being bewitching temptresses promising the alluring, erotic pleasures of the flesh gained prom­ inence. This development paralleled closely the historical develop­ ment of the church. In the fourth century, the dangers of pagan * Greek heritage and of the heresy of gnosticism had diminished 2b greatly, and a new danger, as far as the church fathers were con­ cerned, had arisen - the moral problems caused by the invasion of the church by the "world" and all its enticements. The fathers now began to warn their flock about the heinous evils of the world. In a Bermon on Psalm Vj, Ambrosius interpreted the sirens as follows:

Die Deutung dieser Sirenen aber ist folgende: sie sinnbilden singende Wollust Und Schmeichelei. So ergozt uns auch die Wollust der Welt (saeculi voluptas) mit schmeichelndem Fleisch, um uns zu tauschen. Allein, wie dort bei den Sirenen nicht die Kuste an sich die Schuld am Untergang trug, sondem die Siisse des Qesangs, die da bewirkte, dass man der Klippen der Kuste vergass: also ist auch bei uns nicht das Fleisch als solches der Qrund zum Untergang, sondern jene Kraft, durch die das Fleisch Reiz und Aufruhr verspurt (Rahner, p. *»6l).

It is intersting to note that Ambrosius did not reject the world as such, but only that power which made the Christian forget its dangers and thus succumb to the pleasures of the flesh. The inter­ pretation of the sirens as worldly pleasures became dominant when the monks, who despised everything worldly, used it frequently.

Hieronymus, for example, once instructed one of his aristocratic pupils to ban female singers from the palace, for he regarded them to be sirens who only bring death. Ultimately the sirens stood for worldly women. "Der Sang der Sirenen ist das Gerede der weltlichen

Frauen" (Rahner, p. *t6*0.

In one sense, the specific interpretation of the sirens, be it Greek culture, heresy, the world or womankind, at a given moment in the history of the church is not as important a consideration as is the fact that the sirens always symbolized a threat to the welfare of the Christian church or the soul on its journey towards the heavenly home. For the early Greek Christian, the island of

the sirens ultimately symbolized the mystery of purification by

danger which the Christian must endure before he becomes worthy of reaching his destination. If the Christian wishes to escape destruc­

tion, he must act wisely, and the model-vhich he should emulate is

Odysseus, for the latter alone was able to escape the sirens. Odys­ seus, during his wanderings in his efforts to reach his home, and the manner in which he overcame all obstacles, reminded the early

Christian of the journey of his own life and thus came to be an allegory for the Christian's life on earth. The cardinal aspect of the Odysseus myth was that Odysseus, tied to the mast, approached the island of the sirens fully cognizant of the impending dangers because he had been warned by the divine Circe that the ostensibly harmless beings who sing so sweetly are in reality harbingers of death.

Wissend dem Tode sich nahen - in diesem Wort liegt die Tiefe des Mythos verborgen. Odysseus wird hier zum Inbegriff des ktihnen Menschen, der sich bis in die auBerste Annaherung an die todliche Gefahr voranwagt und doch gerettet wird, der wohl mit offenen Sinnen hort und doch nicht folgt: er hat seine Freiheit selber-gebunden, hat sich gottlicher Weisung folgend and den Mastbaum fesseln lessen (Rahner, pp. ^17-^18).

Odysseus thus became a symbol of the sagaciously bold person, a prototype for the Christian.

Odysseus triumphed over the sirens because he conceded to being tied to the mast of his ship. The mast and its crossbeam reminded the early Greek Christian of the cross on v/hich Christ died to 26 redeem man. Hence Odysseus became an archetype, a predecessor of

Christ, for he had demonstrated how man must cling to the cross to be deliverod from certain death. Ambrosius wrote:

Gliickhafte Fahrt haben die Menschen, die in ihren Schiffen das Krouz Christi wie einen Mastbaum umfassen, dem sie folgen. Sicher Bind sie und des Heils gewiss im Holze des Herrn, und sie lassen ihr Schiff nicht irrend einherfahren auf den Fluten des Meeres, sondern eilen heim in den Hafen des Heils mit dem Kurs auf die Vollendung der Gnade (Rahner, p. *f70).

Clement of Alexandria agreed with regard to the saving factor of the mast.

Fahre vorbei an dem Gesang, er bewirkt den Tod. Aber wenn du nur willst, so kannst du Sieger bleiben uber das Verderben: angebunden an das H o 1 z wirst du loBgebunden sein von jeglichem Untergang. Dein Steuermann wird sein der Logos Got- tes, und in den Hafen der Himmel wird dich einfahren lassen Pheuma, das heilige (Rahner, p. *+37)-

The ancient art of shipbuilding prescribed that a ship be built from three primary types of wood: fir, spruce and cypress. Because of its size, the fir was used for the mast, the spruce or cypress for the keel and the planks. All three woods share a common quality: they are hard woods and not subject to decay. Indeed, one might say figuratively that they last eternally. The cross on which Christ 10 was crucified was constructed from the same three woods. Since the cross of fir, spruce and cypress is the symbol of salvation, the ship of fir, spruce and cypress is also regarded as a symbol of salvation; and the church was often depicted as a ship which leaves the safe mainland, sails through the sea of temptations, and places 27 all its hopes in reaching a future, transcendental goal, the port of eternity. Just as in a real sea voyage the possibility of a shipwreck is always present, so it is with the ship of the church.

According to Origen, danger must always be present when one boards the ship of the church, for without waves and storms the church could not reach its port (Rahner, p. -Ji27)«

Despite the dangers afflicting her, only the Christian within this ship has any hope of reaching the heavenly port safely. There­ fore in a voyage of life, the church was invested with a dual sym­ bolic value: ship-port. As Ambrosius claimed:

Die Kircho ist uns gegeben ale ein Hafen des Heils, und mit ausgebreiteten Armen ruft sie die gefahr- deten Seefahrer in den Schoss ihrer Ruhe (in gremium tranquilitatis), denn sie zeigt sich uns als der Landungaplatz, dem wir vertrauen durfen (Rahner, p. ^36).

Whatever happens to the ship of the church is paralleled by the ship of the soul. The soul, like the church and Odysseus, is sus­ pended between Hades and home, and it longs to reach the latter.

But to accomplish its aims, the soul needs the ship of the church and the wisdom of Odysseus.

"Niemand kann schon in der Welt der sichtbaren Dinge aus eigener Kraft daB Meer durchmesBen und uberschrei- ten. Er braucht dazu das leichte, behende Fahrzeug, das aus Holz gefertigt ist und eben darura allein uber das Wasser setzen kann. So kaftn auch die Seele unmog- lich uber das bittere Meer der Sunde und den gefahrvollen Abyssus der bosen Machte und Leidenschaften hinuber- setzen", sagt ein griechischer Asset (Rahner, p. bkl).

However, in their teachings, the church fathers did not emphasize the ship of the soul metaphor. 28

Occasionally the church fathers draw detailed comparisons be­ tween the structure and organization of the church and that of a ship. An interesting example is the following explication of

Isaiah 18, 1 and 2, by Hippolytus, in which the main components of the ship are allegorically compared to the principle feature of the church.

Das Meer ist die Weltt in der die Kirche wie ein Schiff auf dem Meere vom Sturme umhergeworfen wird, aber nicht untergeht; denn sie hat bei sich den erfahrenen Steuermann Christus. In der Mitte tragt sie ja ein Siegeszeichen gegen den Tod, da sie das Kreuz des Herrn bei sich hat; .... Hire beiden Steuerruder sind die beiden Tes­ tament e, die ausgespannten Seile sind die Liebe Christi, die die Kirche zusammenhalt. Das V/asaer, das sie mit sich fuhrt, ist das Bad der Wiederge- burt, das die Glaubigen erneut. Als glanzendes Sogel ist der Geist vom Himmel da, durch den die an Gott Glaubigen besiegelt werden. Es sind auch eiserne Anker mit (dem Kirchenschiff) verbunden. das sind die heiligen Gebote Christi, die stark sind wie Eisen. Sie hat auch Schiffsleute zur Rechten und Linken, namlich heilige Schutzengel..., durch welche die Kirche geleitet und beschirmt wird. Die Loiter in ihr, die zur Hohe bis zur Segelquerstange hinauffuhrt, ist das Zeichen des Leidens Christi, das die Glaubigen zur Auffahrt in den Himmel zieht. Die ... Taue, die von der Querstange zur Hohe vereint sind, sind die Ord- nungen der Propheten, Martyrer und Apostel. die zur Ruhe im Beiche Christi gelangt sind.

Not only dojbhe various parts of the ship have allegorical meanings,

* but also its crew.

Wenn ihr eines Sinnes seid, so werdet ihr in den Hafen der (ewigen) Ruhe gelangen konnen, wo die Friedensstadt des grossen Konigs ist. Die gesamm- te Einrichtung ... der Kirche gleicht namlich einem Schiffe, das durch starken Sturm hindurch Manner tragt, die aus vielen Gegenden stammen, aber alle die eine Stadt, die Stadt des guten Reiches, zu bewohnen trachten. Es sei euch nun der Herr dieses 29

(Schiffes) Gott, und verglichen sei der Steuermann mit Christus, der Proreta mit dem Bischof, die Schiffsleute mit den Priestern, die Aufseher der Seiten mit den Diakonen, die Naustologen mit den Katccheten, die Fahrgaste mit der Menge der Briider, die Tiefe (des Meeres) mit der Welt, die Y/idrigen Winde mit den Vcrsuchungen .... Die Fahrgaste sollen sich fest an die Ordnungen halten und an ihren Plat- zen sitzen, damit sie nicht durch die Unordnung eine Erschutterung oder ein Neigcn des Schiffes nach der Seite hervorrufen. Die Naustologen sollen an den Lohn erinnern. Die Diakone sollen nichts von dem verabsaumen, was ihnen anvertraut ist. Die Priester Bollen wie die Schiffsleute sorgsam jedem bieten, was ihm frommt, Der Bischof als wachsamer Proreta soil einzig alloin die Mahnungen ... des Steuermanns bei sich erwagen. (Unser) Christus und Heiland werde als Steuermann geachtet, mid ihm allein soil man glaubenf was er sagt. Alle aber sollen Gott urn eine gute Uberfahrt bitten (Dolger, pp. 281-282).

Jons' explication of the meaning of the sea, ship and port mentioned at the beginning of this chapter come from this stage of the develop­ ment, for, as Rahner has shown, from henceforth no major changes in the allegoric interpretation occur throughout the middle ages.

In the introduction, I mentioned that according to the theories of perception of gestalt psychology the familiar or known is per­ force the starting point for rendering the unfamiliar or unknown.

The corollary to this principle is that the concrete will be the starting point for rendering the abstract. Leech observes that in communication we make "abstractions tangible by perceiving them in terms of the concrete, physical world; we grasp the nature of in­ animate things more vividly by breathing life into them; the world of nature becomes more real and comprehensible to us when we project into it the qualities we recognize in ourselves," and he argues convincingly that we use the simile, metaphor, symbol or allegory 12 to accomplish these aims. The early church fathers had to familiarize their congregation with the structure, organization, function, mission, and creed of the Christian church, and they did so by superimposing the objects of their veneration unto the fa­ miliar Hellenistic tradition of nautical imagery. An existing, familiar schema, a formulary or stereotype in Gombrich's termino­ logy, becomes the starting point for explaining the new, unfamiliar and .often abstract concepts of the church. It is interesting to note that bibilical examples employing sea and ship imagery exist, for instance Noah and the ark and Christ's stilling of the tempest, but in the beginning, the patristic church fathers nevertheless chose the pagan schema for their purpose. In my opinion, this is not because they heeded Clement's advice and retained useful in­ formation from pagan culture and philosophy for catechistic instruc­ tion, but because of the mentioned innate psychological principle of perception. The fact that nautical imagery could also be found in the Bible supported their explanations, but it did not initiate it. Furthermore, this example not only illustrates the movement from the familiar to the unfamiliar, but it also demonstrates the • principle of the adapted stereotype. Christianity corrects the existing pagan schema by adding such distinctive features as are necessary to explain the Christian truths. Hence Christ replaces

Tyche at the helm of the ship, and the biblical examples of the ark and Christ's stilling of the tempest are also used to correct the formulary. This type of correction appears to be a normal pattern

in itself inasmuch as Tyche had replaced the Dioscuri. It is in­

teresting to note that in their allegorical interpretations of

classical seafaring motifB, the patristic fathers did not avail

themselves of all the pertinent parts contained in the classical

tradition. For example, the typical behavior of sailors during a

storm mentioned by Huxley does not play a prominent role in the

allegories of the church fathers. It appears that they were much

more concerned with erecting a positive example of Christian be­ havior for their flock in the figure of Odysseus, than they were in

focusing on the unworthy - though very natural and human - behavior

of the classical sailor in the face of dire adversity. It was in their best interest to show their charges a positive example of behavior to be emulated and not a negative example to be avoided.

There are other methods of modifying a traditional schema.

Instead of exchanging parts, Christ for Tyche, or omitting parts,

such as the behavior exhibited by the classical sailors, the part may remain intact but its significance changes, as for example, in the case of the changing interpretations of the role of the sirens.

The church fathers adapted various distinctive features of the,

sirens to coincide with the new dangers that threatened the church.

The changing notions about the sirens, furthermore, clearly exemplify

the technique of foregrounding some features and disregarding others.

As stated, the sirens were originally vampirelike creatures, but

Homer and Hesiod were responsible for beautifying these ugly creatures, thereby changing them into exotic, beautiful temptresses.

Although their original nature was never quite forgotten, it re­ ceded into the background as the new traits gained prominence.

Similarly, their original temptation, the promise of divine know­ ledge, was superseded by their new temptation of the pleasures of the world and the flesh.

There are, of course, many techniques of poetic foregrounding, all of which presuppose "some motivation on the part of the writer and some explanation on the part of the reader" (Leech, p. 58)•

The studies by Rahner, Huxley and Bonner deal with different parts of the tradition. Rahner, for example, asserts that the church fathers tended to stress the myth of Odysseus and the sirens because they were primarily concerned with the welfare of the church and its members. OdysseuB, therefore, served as a model of wise behavior in the face of temptations. However, as different concerns motivate the author, diverse features of the schema are foregrounded. Hux­ ley's study discloses the emphasis Roman poets placed on the ship­ wreck and the storms. Since for religious reasons, drowning was one of the most dreaded ways of dying, the fragility of the ship and the destructive power of the storms played a major role. On the other hand, Bonner points out that with the growth of Chris­ tianity, death as the port in which all life ends loses its dread, in fact, it acquires the connotation of the English word "haven."

In the latter capacity, the port assumes a more and more significant role in the tradition. 32

Because different authors and different periods tend to under­

score different aspects of the tradition of nautical imagery, it is

difficult to reconstruct the original schema, but there appear to be at least three distinct stages to a sea voyage: the departure,

the actual journey and the final destination. Each stage has cer­

tain distinctive features which may be^emphasized. The voyage, for

example, may be darkened with storm clouds; the winds may be fa­ vorable or unfavorable; the trip may be uneventful, or one may en­

counter rocks, cliffs, sandbanks, sirens, dangerous Bea animals or

angry gods. The ship may be seaworthy and well-manned by a skilled

captain and crew, as it is in the extensive citations from Clement

and Hippolytus; or it may be poorly constructed and ill-manned as

it is in the ship of fools. All these features form a pattern in which each component has a definite implicit relationship to the

whole as well as to other parts. For example, whenever high waves

or strong gales occur, they always signify danger to the ship;

whenever the sea is calm and the sun shines, the ship is safe. But

we do not know the specific nature of the dangers. Do they symbolize

the wrath of Poseidon, or do they symbolize the wrath of the devil

and his cohorts? Are they intended to demonstrate the helplessness

and panic of the fearful sailors, or are they a test of the courage

and skill of the captain? The import of the part is dependent upon

its relation to the whole, and can only be understood properly if

one knows the whole. Because different authors and different periods tend to fore­ ground different aspects of the traditional schema of nautical imagery, and because we must assume that these changes in emphasis are deliberate, presupposing "some motivation on the part of the writer," it is imperative that the reader be as thoroughly versed in the tradition as possible. Only the-reader who is acquainted with its history can detect modifications of the schema. To be sure, a knowledge of the tradition automatically conditions the reader so that he will bring certain definite expectations to bear upon his reading and interpretation. This psychological or mental set of the reader, however, should not be viewed as detrimental.

In fact, it can be argued that the poet counts on a reader's pre­ conceived expectations and has every right to do so. As Gruenter pointed out, one of Brant's primary concerns in his Narrenschiff was missed by many critics because they were not acquainted with the patristic Odyssey allegories, and, as Brant's reference to

Homer indicates, he fully expected the reader to bring his knowledge of this tradition to his work.

I. A. Richards distinguishes between the tenor and the vehicle of a metaphor, the tenor being the subject matter of the comparison, * the vehicle being the image whereby the subject matter is communi­ cated. ^ More than one image may be the vehicle for depicting a given subject, for example, the world may be compared to a sea, or it may be compared to a stage. By extension, one image may be used to depict several subjects. We may speak of the ship of the church, the ship of the soul, the ship of state, the ship of fools, the ship of poetry, the ship of love, and so forth. It is, there­ fore, not enough to know the vehicle of a comparison, one must also know the tenor. Tenor and vehicle together form an integrated whole, and the significance of the vehicle and its parts depends on the subject matter. As I indicated above, there are several dif­ ferent subject areas which are an appropriate tenor for the vehicle of nautical imagery. The meaning and significance of the schema and its parts, as expected, changes from one tenor to the next.

The word port may thus refer to such different things as a patron of the arts, leisure, solitude, the Roman senate, exile, retire­ ment, death, the City of God, etc.

It is, of course, normally not very difficult to discern the tenor of the comparison. If the sea is the world, then the ship is the church or the soul; if the sea is love, the ship is the lover.

Once the tenor is established, the reader's mental set, if he is familiar with the tradition, brings to the metaphor certain expec­ tations of meanings and relationships, expectations which may or may not be met by the poet. Perception, as Gombrich pointed out, is primarily- the modification of an anticipation, the difference between our expectations and the incoming message. If the schema meets our expectations all the time, we tend not to pay much atten­ tion to it, or we may even get annoyed with it. But if the stereo­ type is changed, we are inclined to notice the change. Since we normally assume that there is some motivation for the change, we attempt to seek an explanation. To be sure, it is difficult to determine when these changes point to a real effort by the poet to come to terms with his perception of reality, of the universal truth he wishes to convey in a particular example, or when they are merely an affectation, a trite formula that appears to be pointless. On the other hand, it can be argued that even a formula will only cap­ ture the imagination of itB proponents if it strikes some sympathetic cord. From this is appears that Newald's inferences drawn from the frequent use of the sea voyage as a symbol of man's life rest on a stronger basis than might at first be suspected. On the other hand,

Newald's expressed annoyance with this frequent usage may well be due to the fact that the schema always meets his expectation and that he is bored with the consequent regularity.

In the following chapter, I shall examine some aspects of the tradition that play only a minor role in German Baroque literature with respect to both their adherence to the tradition and their changes from the traditional schema, and in such instances where changes do occur, where the stereotype has been corrected, I shall try to account for the reasons that brought about this innovation. FOOTNOTES

^ Gerhard Fricke, Die Bildlichkeit in der Dichtung des Andreas >hius (Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft, 1967),

p For example, Iwand, in discussing Otfrid, states:

... das hubsche Bild des heimkehrenden Schiffers, der nach glucklich beendeter Fahrt den Hafen er- reicht hat, das Segel niederlasst und sein Ruder einzieht, um nun am Gestade zu rasten, ist nicht Otfrids eigene Erfindung.... Es ist, £wi^} Schon- bach ... und Stosch ... aufmerksam machen, 'einer alten verbreiteten Schreiberunterschrift entlehnt, . uber deren verschiedene lat. und griech. Fassung man sich bei Vattenbach ... orientieren kann* und Stosch fiihrt Verse aus Alcuin und Walafrid Strabo an, die denselben Gedanken enthalten.

In Kathe Iwand, Die Schlussel der mitt elhochdeutschen Epen, Germanische Studien, 16 (Berlin: E. Ebering, 1922), p. 12.

^ Rainer Gruenter, "Das Schiff: Ein Beitrag zur historischen Metaphorik," in Akten des III. Internationalen Germanistenkon- grosses (Amsterdam, 19S5 )» p* 89. All direct citations from this article will be indicated in the text in parentheses after the ci­ tation. L Dietrich Walter Jons, Das "Sinnen-Bild," Studien zur allegorischen Bildlichkext bei Andreas Gryphius (Stuttgart: Metz- ler, 1 9 6 6 ) , p. 192.

^ Hugo Rahner, Griechische Hythen in chriBtlicher Deutung (Zurich: Rhein, 19^5)1 P» ^30* Unless otherwise indicated, all citations from Rahner come from this text. References will be in­ dicated in the text in parentheses. These citations will consist of both Rahner's translations of early Greek/Latin originals, as well as his own comments. The context should be sufficiently clear

37 38

to ensure that there is no confusion as to whether Rahner1s trans­ lations or his comments are cited.

^ Rahner cites several sources to show how classical man viewed seafaring; Alciphron, for example, states: Bos ist das Meer, und das Seefahren ist ein tollkiihn waghalsiges Ding." Se- cundus describes a sailor as follows:

Was ist ein Seefahrer? Er ist auf dem festen Erd- land nur ein Gast, ein Deserteur des Heimatbodens, ein Kampfer gegen Sturme, ein Gladiator zur See. Er ist immerdar des Heils unsicher, ein Nachbar des Todes - und doch ein gliihender Liebhaber der Meer- flut.

In Rahner, p. *fj51.

* « ^ H. H. Huxley, "Storm and Shipwreck in Roman Literature," in Greece and Rome, vol. XXI (Oxford: Clarendon, 1952)* P- 117- All citations from this article will be indicated in the text of the chapter in parentheses. Q Cambell Bonner, "Desired Haven," in Harvard Theological Review, jk (19*fl), pp. **6-6?. All citations from this article will be indicated in the text in parentheses.

^ For further information see Dictionary of Classical Antiqui­ ties by Seiffert/Mettleship/Sandys.

^ Hugo Rahner, Antenna Crucis III, p. lOff.

Franz Joseph Dolger, "Das Schiff der Kirche auf der Fahrt gen Sonnenaufgang: Die Fahrt der Seele zum Hafen des ewigen Friedens," in Sol Salutis (Munster: Aschendorff, 1920), p. 277*

^ Dolger, p. 158.

13 Leech, p. 191- CHAPTER II: MINOR ASPECTS OF THE CLASSICAL AND

PATRISTIC TRADITION IN GERMAN BAROQUE LITERATURE

• • While discussing ship allegories Sn German Baroque literature,

Manfred Windfuhr remarks:

Die Barockliteratur greift aus den alten, in viel- faltiger Form uberlieferten Schiffahrtsallegorien die Anwendungen heraus, die ihrem denken am meisten entgegenkommen: die Deutung auf den Grundbereich des Lebens und der Liebe. Andere Aspekte treten dagegen zuriick. Man begegnet im Barock seltener dem Staatsschiff, ... dem Kirchenschiff oder der Verbildlichung der schriftstellerischen Arbeit als Schiffahrt. Sie sind als Gebrauchsallegorien coch zu belegen, machen aber nicht das Zentrum aus. *

And it is true, in the vast majority of German Baroque poems con­ taining nautical imagery the tenor or subject matter of tho meta­ phor is life or love. However, both the aspects that are fore­ grounded - life and love - and the aspects that recede into the background disclose something about the concerns of a period. As

Windfuhr intimates, the shift in emphasis in the usage of the allegories reflects a change in perception and values, that is, in the manner in which the poets of this era saw, interpreted qnd reflected upon various aspects of life. It is, of course, not always possible to account for the shifts in emphasis; however, one can detect a trend towards humanism and secularization in the way former religious symbols lose their theological implications.

39 4o

By comparing the new usage to the traditional pattern, it is pos­ sible to ascertain the "corrections" of the schema more clearly and thus establish the concerns and values of the period more precisely.

The fact that the usage of what Windfuhr describes as "Ge- brauchsallegorien" can still be documented in this era indicates that its poets were familiar with the -^traditional schema of nautical imagery; and the fact that these allegories no longer play a central role in the literature of this period testifies that the stereotype was changed. I now propose to examine several aspects of the tra­ ditional pattern of seafaring allegories from the perspective of the principle of "schema and correction" in order to ascertain which aspects are emphasized and which ones recede into the background.

Finally, I would like to propose possible reasons for the changes in emphasis.

Huxley observes that the Roman poets regarded the invention of the ship as a source of many evils, for there were two primary reasons men set out to sea: to make war, or to engage in commerce.

Both reasons are equally ignominious because they are manifestations of man's insatiable greed. In his satiric epic, "Lob des Krieges

Gottea," Opitz adheres closely to this traditional viewpoint. Mars, the god of war, first introduced mankind to* seafaring.

Du hast den Fichtenbaum zum ersten heiflen hawen/ Hast vnserh Muth gereitzt ein Holtzpferdt auff zu bawen/ Das Segel hoch zu ziehn/ zu reisen durch den Wind/ Wo Meer und Tod von vns in gleicher Weite sind. Wir Bteigen in das Schiff/ in einen holen Balcken/ Der fleucht mit vns darvon ... Wo leytest du vns hin? Wir haben erst vrabfahren Der guten Hoffnung Haupt, beraubet jhrer Wahren Die reiche Cefala; der Mondenjnsel Frucht/ Jhr edles Sandalholtz/ jhr Helffenbein gesucht; Vns Goa recht gemacht; Malacca eingenommen/ Nicht weit von Sumatra; sind weiter nachmals kommen An Sina reichen Strand/ das Porcellanen schicket/ ^ Vnd auch Geschutze hat/ vnnd auch die Bucher driickt.

What ostensibly appears to be a positive evaluation of Mars in this

citation, takes on a sinister overtone if it is, placed in the con­

text of the whole satiric poem. For another sixty or so lines,

Opitz continues to list diverse countries, islands and cities and

their exotic and valuable products. Although this catalogue may

strike the modern reader as a pompous display of misplaced scho­

larship in which the point at issue is obfuscated, Opitz intends

its very length to intensify his message: human avarice is the basis-of war. Mars' gift of the ship to mankind has extended the horrors of war to many other countries and has depleted them of

their original wealth and opulence.

The merchant, too, suffers Opitz* scorn. In "Vielguet" Opitz

claims:

Sie [die Kaufleute] holen vber Meer Aul3 einer andren Welt der Laster Werckzeug her/ Versetzen jhren Half! den Wellen selbst zum Pfande/ Sind Blutarm auff der See vmb reich zu seyn zu Lande Das weit von dannen liegt. 3

It is interesting to note, as the poem in its entirety makes clear,

that just as Ambrosius did not deny the world per se, but only that

power which seduced the Christian to forsake the dictum of God, so

Opitz does not reject the eastern riches and spices, but only the

effect which the pursuit of fortune exerts on man's soul. The bz

futile quest for worldly opulence is considered as a waste of man's

time and energy and a detriment to his immortal soul. The mer­

chant is also censured for importing foreign customs and vices

responsible for deteriorating the moral fibre of the native country,

thereby endangering the soul.

Not all the poets in the seventeenth century shared this tra­

ditional negative attitude toward sea commerce. On the contrary,

the majority of references to the seafaring merchant depict him as a courageous, selflesB man who sacrifices his safety for the general

good of his fellow man. Without him, the standard of living would be lower and no progress would be evident. To be sure, he earns a

respectable living from his ventures, but the profit motif is moderated. This new attitude toward commerce in general iB perhaps best expressed in a poem by Simon Dach.

HAndel und Gewerbe sind Dieses Lebens Port und Wind Vnd das Band der Erden, Sind der Volker Zier und Trost Vnd wodurch auch West und Ost Wie vermahlet werden.

Wenn dem Lande was gebricht, Feyrt der wache Kauffman nicht, Nichts _ist ihm entgegen, Er durchreiset Land und See, Achtet nichts auff Frost und Schnee, Nichts auff Schlag und Regen, -

Er bereichert Land und Stadt, BaB sich Konigsberg wol hat, Dantzig sich kan halten Wieder seiner Feinde Hacht, Ob umb sie her Sturm und Schlacht, Glut und Schwerd gleich walten. Dieses ist des Handels Krafft, Die beruhmte Kauffmanschafft Macht aus Dorffen Stadte, Aus der Stadt ein Konigsreich, Reiche waren Dorffern gleich, Wenn sie es nicht thaie. 5

Although by the seventeenth century the power and prestige of the

Hanseatic League had waned, in its time it had contributed greatly toward making trade by sea profitable, safe, and respectable. Fur­ thermore, Vasco da Gama's voyage around the Cape of Good Hope in

1^9 8 , to which Opitz alluded in the cited passage from the "Lob des Krieges Gottes," established an all-water route to India which reduced the cost of the Eastern luxury products, especially spices and condiments. Thus the economy was stimulated, resulting in a higher living standard. It is understandable that a people who depend upon commerce by sea for their new standard of living could not continue to regard and describe sea merchants in a deprecatory light. The historical situation demanded that the inherited schema be corrected to conform with the new perception toward merchandising.

A curious blend of the traditional negative and the new posi­ tive evaluation of the Bea merchant which illustrates the grip of the convention contending with the forces of the new re-evaluation process is exemplified in Veckherlin's rendition of Psalm 107 as follows:

Die welche auf dem Meer mit ktihner hand und brust Gewerb und Nahrung halb, der Armut zu entfliehen, Die seegel (frech) aufziehen: Und die in einem schiff sich kaum zween finger weit Von dem gewissen tod hinauR (verwegen) wagen, Und mit ehrgeitz und geitz auch auff dem wasser jagen Nach ungewisser beut. ° The adjective "kiihn" used to describe the merchant in the first line has a complimentary, approving connotation. The motive be­ hind the sea voyage is not to gain riches, but to escape poverty.

This shift in perspective exonerates the motive; "Nahrung" suggests the congenial image of the provider, and "Gewerb" invests the entire undertaking with an aura of solid respectability and professionalism.

Beginning with line three, however, the traditional negative feeling toward the seafaring merchant re-emerges. Although the adjective "frech" originally meant brave and carried a positive connotation, in New High German it acquired the deprecatory meaning of impudent. The adjective "verwegen" in line five accentuates the disparaging viewpoint by suggesting that the actions of the mer­ chants are foolhcarty and insolent in that they dare challenge certain death. Finally, "ehrgeitz" and "geitz" reenforce this notion of false ambition. Curiously enough, though, in line two the motive for the merchant's journey is characterized as "der

Armut zu entfliehen," in line six the greed motivation reappears, and the justification of "Gewerb and Nahrung halb" is twisted into a chase after uncertain booty, with its connotative overtones of piracy. It jtppears that the laudable motivation of making a living to escape poverty proclaimed in line two is contradicted as soon as

Weckherlin commences his description of the actual sailing with the hoisting of the sails in line three. The traditional perspective and phraseology of the schema is so stereotyped and habitual, that

Weckherlin subconsciously reverts to it. Both Huxley and Rahner mention that the classical authors con­ sidered sailing the seas precarious because the sailor was separated from certain death only by the thickness of the ship’s planks.

Huxley maintains also that death by drowning is to be shunned be­ cause it robs man of his due burial rites. It is interesting that such an apparently insignificant component of the pattern of clas­ sical ship imagery survived. Weckherlin, in the previously quoted passage, asserted that the sailor was "kaum zween finger weit/ Von dem gewissen tod," and other instances of usage can be documented.

For example, an epigram by Qeorg Greflinger reads:

Der sich dem Schiffe trawt 0 grosBe Sicherheit Der ist vom Todte nur auff sieben Daumen weit. 7 and in Opitz' "Lob des Feldlebens" we find the following lines:

0 Wol/ vnnd mehr als wol/ dem welcher weit vom Kriegen/ Von Sorgen/ Miih vnd Angst/ sein Vattergut kan pfliigen/ ... • • * Darff auff der wiisten See nicht j miner furchtsara schweben/ Von Winden vmbgefiihrt/ da zwischen Todt vnd Leben Ein Daumendickes Bret.... °

In these cases both the phraseology and the intent of the references to the thickness of the planks adheres closely to the classical con­ vention. However, just as the stereotyped depiction of the avari­ cious merchant has usually been changed to reflect the new attitude

« toward commerce, so this motif was adapted to mirror the Christian concept of death. Since death by drowning was considered no more dreadful than any other mode of dying in the context of the Chris­ tian religion, the reference to the thinness of the planks lost much of its original connotation of terror. This belief, for k6 instance, was expressed by Eirken. In the introduction to his

Brandenburgischer Ulysses, he criticizes those people adverse- to sea voyages due to the fear of import of foreign customs and vices.

These people also claim that traveling abroad is too hazardous, especially for important state officials. Birken censures their opinions in the following manner:

Das letztere erstlich zu widerreden/ so wird damit wenig erwiesen: weil die Gefahrden auch zu Haus mit uns aus- und eingehen/ und man auch daheim sterben kan, Wie dann jener/ als er gowarnet worden/ er sol- te/ weil auf dem Meer zwischen dem Tod und einem Schiffer nur ein Daumen-dickes Bret ware/ nicht zu Schiff gehen/ seinen Rahtgeber hinwieder vermahnet: Er sollte auch nicht zu Bette gehen/ weil taglich ihrer mehr auf dem Bette als auf dem Meer sturben. 9

The some thoughts were expressed in his Ballet der Natur.

Vior Schiffleute

Ob eine nur zween Daumen-dicko Wand auf unsrer See ist zwischen Tod und Leben: so hab ich doch den Wellen mich ergeben/ mein Haus steht auf dee Meeres unbestand.

Ob man erseufft: so darf man sonst nit sterben. Es wurgt/ sowol auf Erd/ als auf dem Meer der strenge Tod. Fahrt hat Gefahr und Ehr! mehr Leut im Bett/ als auf dem Schiff/ verderben.

Although Birken still imitates the conventional formula when re­ ferring to the thickness of the ship’s planks, the intense horror of grave dangers inherent in the original usage is lacking. In fact, in the first stanza the customary fascination and attraction which the sea exerts on man has been foregrounded instead by rejec­ ting the danger, and in the second stanza the honor and glory of seafaring is given prominence, "Fahrt hat Gefahr und EhrI" This shift in values and emphasis, in my opinion, should be attributed to the Christian conception of death as a joyful, desirable ex ­ perience which delivers the deceased to his heavenly home.

Das Himmel-Schiff/ das unter Sternen fahret ob es nur halb/ iedoch nit untergeht. Man schwimt zu Land auf Truraem unversehret/ ob schon das Schiff gescheitert nicht besteht.

Even in the case of shipwreck, the plank of salvation, the "Triim- mern," allows the sailor to reach the desired land.

Although death by drowning has loBt some of its ominous impli­ cations, and even though death, from the Christian viewpoint, is supposed to be joyfully anticipated, in the majority of instances the sailor's natural, instinctive fear emerges when he is confronted by a storm. Huxley aptly describes the normal pattern of the sailor's behavior. In face of the tempestuous storms, "the helms­ man's art is baffled," the members of the crew are panic stricken, 12 drop their work and repeat their prayers and cries of despair.

They make solemn promises to be kept if they once again stood on dry land. However, once on shore, the fascination of the sea would recapture their imagination and once more they would set sail. The following stanza by Weckherlin adheres to this traditional schema.

Der Kaufman seglend gegen hauB Wan wind und wellen sick erhoben, Hat nu nicht so viel geitz als grauB Weil Schif, Mast, Ruder, Grundbaum boben: Hein hertz voll forcht, voll klag sein mund Geloben beed in boser stund, DaB das best leben das Land-leben, Dem will Er sich nu ganiz ergeben: Iedoch-kompt Er kaum an das Land DaB sein Geliibd Er stracks vernichtet kS

Und weil Armut soin groste schand, Sein schiff bald wider neu zu richtet.

Similar patterns of description occur frequently. At this point I

would only like to cite one more example which incorporates a curi­

ous detail. Greflinger depicts the actions of sailors in a storm

as follows:

Schiffer die mit Sturm vmgeben/ In der Wellen Tyranney/ Hawen jhren Mast entzwey/ Lassen Mast vnd Segel flugen/ Qeben sich in GotteB Hand/ Schreyen Herr/ Herr in den Zugen/ Hilff vns wider an das Land.

Dann mit frischem Leibe sterben/ Kommt den Menschen sawr an/ Es wil keiner gern verderben/ ^ Jeder wehrt sich wie er kan/ ...

The last four lines explicitly verify that the fear of dying, and not the fear of drowning, causes the panic. In their desperate efforts to save themselves, the sailors implore God for aid. Their actions come as a surprise to the reader familiar with the patristic tradition in which the mast symbolizes the only hope of salvation.

Why does Greflinger deviate in this detail while adhoring to the traditional schema of the sailors' behavior in the other respects?

One can only, surmise that either Greflinger was no longer cognizant of the symbolic significance of the mast in the patristic tradition, a fact which seems unlikely, or that the symbolic import of it was no longer relevant to his concerns. In any case, Greflinger's chopped down mast no longer emblematizes the cross of salvation, but is a real mast which seamanship prescribes must be lowered to weather the storm. It appears in this instance that a strictly patristic, ecclesiastical, religious tradition is shed and a secular, realistic description is adopted in its stead. Since the classical schema of the sailor’s behavior meets the demands of realism, it is left intact.

The myth of Odysseus and the sireno- played a dominant role in the patristic tradition of nautical imagery, and as Gruenter has demonstrated, Brant was still intimately familiar with the patristic usage. If such a minor aspect as the reference to the thickness of the ship's planks endured, it seems logical to assume that such a salient component of the schema as tho Odysseus myth would continue to retain its major function in the nautical imagery of German Ba­ roque poetry. But it does not. The allusions to Odysseus and/or the sirens are sparse (only half a dozen in over one thousand re­ ferences to seafaring), and when they are encountered, the Chris­ tian element is customarily lacking. In fact, the only example that may still embrace Christian features which I have been able to detect occurs in the introduction to Birken's Brandenburgischer

Ulysses, as follows:

Wer imjjeleit Gottes und mit solchen Gefartinnen reissot/ den wird sein Vatterland trefflicher empfangen/ . als es ihn ausgesendet .... Also reisete der Griech- ische Printz Ulysses/ welchen der Poeten-Furet Homerus alien Reisenden zum Fiirbild aufgestellet. ^

There follows a recounting of the various adventures of Odysseus including the myth of the sirens. 50

Er horte zwar/ die Wollust Sirenen/ lieblich: aber die Vernunft hatte ihn/ an den Mast der Bestandig- keit/ fast angehaftet/ dafl er ihnen nicht zugelauffen/ und seine (sic] Ohren mit dem JungferWachs der Keusch- heit verstopfet.

The introductory sentence of the first citation above provides the overall religious framework which determines the interpretation of the ensuing material. The two passageo-seem to point to the es­ sential features of the patristic schema in that Odysseus is still the model par excellence for all travelers, and the sirens appear in their later familiar role of seductive temptresses. The re­ ligious implications of the patristic tradition, however, appear to be only peripheral in Birken*s description. First of all, the voy­ age to which Birken refers has no metaphoric or allegoric signifi­ cance. It is simply one of the many cultural and educational jour­ neys that the members of the aristocracy were expected to undertake in order to complete or further their education. Secondly, the religious sentiments uttered in the introductory sentence of the first citation communicates no more than the conventional, formular greeting of "go with God1* in which the original religious coloring has all but disappeared. Thirdly, the actual references to the myth of Odysseus deviates markedly from the schema of the patristic tradition. Here it is not Circe, but his own reason that advised

Odysseus to be tied to the mast, that is, Odysseus is not saved by divine intervention but by human foresight. The mast to which he is bound no longer symbolizes the cross of Christ, but is a metaphor for "Bestandigkeit," an ambiguous term which may have a religious 51

connotation in the sense of steadfastness, but more likely simply

means resoluteness of purpose or endurance. Furthermore, contrary

to the myth, in Birken1s version reason plugs Odysseus' ears with

wax. This emphasis on reason as the saving power of man runs

counter to the patristic tradition. It appears that the original

religious concepts are replaced by thejiew humanistic ideal of

"Vernunft."

All other references to Odysseus or the sirens that I have

been able to find in the poetry of this era no longer seem to have

any religious overtones present. If anything, the humanistic ideal

of reason and its concurrent shift away from spiritual, religious

interests toward realism, toward the senses and toward practical

life pervades these examples. Opitz for instance is attuned to

this trend when he writes:

Vlysses kan vns weisen/ Der Ruhm von Jthaca/ das rechte Mali zu reisen/ Der Weisheit vnd Verstand jhm zum Gefehrten nahm/ Vnd also sicherlich dem Polyphem entkan. Er gieng zu Holen ein vnd dennoch auB zuriicke/ Er fuhr bey Scyllen hin mit vnversehrtera Glucke LieB der Sirenen Lied vnd Anmuth vnbegehrt/ Tranck Circen Becher auss vnd,ward doch nicht verkehrt/ Dem hast du nachgeBetzt .... '

These lines.demonstrate that Odysseus is still respected as the

exemplary traveler, because he is guided by reason and wisdom in his endeavors. A man can still profit by imitating his example,

and it is to Burghoff's credit (the "du" of the last line cited)

to have chosen him as his model. But Odysseus is no longer the wise £hri£tian traveler. 53

Simon Dach concurs with Opitz* interpretation. In a eulogy of

Otto von Schwerin he declares:

Liessest dich die Vorsicht leiten, Die ohn ablaft dir zu Seiten, Als dein Schutz und Leit=Stern stund, Die zugleich im Ernst und Schertzen War das Ruder deinem Hertzen Und dir regte Zung und Mund.

Sie sie ist, die Pallas oben, Die Homer hat zugegeben Seinem Helden, den er singt, Sie gebar ihm in dem Kriege Gliick und diesen Ruhm der Siege, Der nach seinem Tod' auch klingt.

Daft nicht Circe noch Syrenen Jemals ihn vermocht zu hohnen Durch der falschen Anmuht Zior, Daft er in die Holle kommen Und den Weg zuriick gonommen, _ Solches danckt er einig ihr.

Just as Odysseus was guided by prudence and caution - for Fallas

Athene was the goddess of wisdom - so was Otto von Schwerin. In fact, prudence plays a triple role in the nautical schema: she is the protectress, the North Star and the rudder. The last two items have a similar function: to give direction to the voyage. But even though Pallas is a goddess, no religious emotions are attached to the mention of her name. All other instances that might have been interpreted in a religious manner are simply passed over. • The term ''Leitstern,11 for example, which normally symbolizes God or

Christ, is here a metaphor for prudence. To repeat, Odysseus is no longer the wise Christian, only the wise man.

On several occasions, Dach compares a person, whom he deems worthy of exceptional praise, to Odysseus. The merits of the 53

individual in question are determined by how good or wise he is as

compared to Odysseus, as is the case in the following two illus­

trations.

Manches Reich hast du erkant, Keiner Circen Trunck, kein Brand Kuntte deinen Vorsatz hohnen: Wie Ulysses unversehrt Den Gesang hat angehort -q *— Der betrieglichen Syrenen.

and

Wir loben deine Wissenschaft, Die Zier der Sprachen, die Geberden, Dein Leben ist untadelhafft Und doch wil dir dein Wunsch nicht werden.

Mach einen Auffsatz doinor Noht, LaB deine Sorgen seyn beschrieben Sampt alien Sturmen, die dein Boht Auff manchen Fels und Strand getrieben.

Vieleicht gleicht dir Ulysses kaura, Wie sehr mit ihm Homer mag pralen, Sein Elend auff deB Meeres Schaum MuB manche Lust ihm gnug bezahlen.

Neptunen Zorn, der See Verdrus, Versucht ihm Scylla zu ertrencken. Calypso und Alcinous MuB desto besser ihm beschencken.

The depiction of the sirens in German Baroque poetry also lost its religious tinge. Although they continued to be delineated in a few poems as dissembling temptresses who divert man from pursuing his true goal, and though man was still'exhorted not to succumb to their enticements, their temptations were now of a secular nature. The sirens attempted to divert man from the path of social virtue by offering him the social vices - pleasures of the flesh. As Dach writes: Anietzt bey ewren Ehren, Nimm, Jugend, deiner war, LaB dich die WeiBheit lehren, Sey fleisBig immerdar, Horst du die LuBt-Sirenen, jFolg ihrer Stimmen nicht, Sie suchen dich zu hohnen ^ Nimm an der Zucht Bericht.

Vnwegsara ist kein Weg der zu der Tugend fiihrt. Es mogen noch so suB jhm die Sirenen singen, Sie werden jhn doch nicht von seinem Vorsatz bringen, Es lieb' jhm Circe sich mit aller Schonheit zu, Ja selbst, die Koniginn der Hertzen, Venus thu Jhr bestes, auch jhr Sohn sey eiffrig jhn zu fangen, So wird er doch entgehn gleich einer glatten Schlangen, Wird nirgends laBig seyn und sinnen Tag und Nacht Bis seine Sachen sind in jhren Stand gebracht. 22

As the above citations attest, the temptations of the sirens are devoid of religious implications.

Although it is precarious to speculate why the myth of Odysseus and the sirens became peripheral to the schema of nautical imagery in German Baroque poetry, one can safely conjecture that this can be attributed to the different concerns of the church fathers and the Baroque poets. The church fathers, still in the process of establishing the church, were confronted with the responsibility of providing their congregation with an acceptable yet familiar model of a befitting attitude and bearing for a Christian to emulate in order to perpetuate the Christian church. The myth of Odysseus and the sirens, explicated from the Christian perspective, met all the criteria. The German poets of the seventeenth century, however, were no longer attracted to this Christian allegorical rendition of the myth because the proper ethical behavior of a Christian in face of temptations ceased to be a primary concern of this period.

Hence, a part of the schema that had once almost dominated ship allegories not only receded, but in the very rare cases when the

Odysseus motif along with that of the sirens does appear, the schema appears to have been adapted to meet the new humanistic ideals of reason, realism and practicality. Howetfer, the references are too few to reach much more than a very tentative conclusion. Baroque poets accentuated different aspects of the nautical schema: the function of the storms, and death as a prerequisite to reaching the port. In the following chapter on the ship of life, I shall examine how the ideological environment of the seventeenth century and the

Thirty Years' War influence the poets' perspective on life and expression of new concerns: tho coping with death, a justification for the storms, an emphasis on Christ's ability to calm the storms, and a stress on faith and repentance in the doctrine of salvation.

The Odysseus motif was unsuitable for expressing these concerns. FOOTNOTES

Manfred Windfuhr, Die baroclce Bildlichkeit und ihre Kritikeri Stillhaltungen in der deutschen Literatur des 17« und iff. Jahrhun- derts (Stuttgart; Metzler, 1966) * pp7 8^ 85.

^ Martin Opitz, "Lob des Krieges Gottes," in Weltliche Poemata, 1 6 H (Deutsche Neudrucke, Reihe: Barock. Tubingen; Niemeyer, 196?)* PP* 165-166.

^ Martin Opitz, "Vielguet," in Weltliche Poemata, l6Mf (Deutsche Neudrucke, Reihe: Barock. Tubingen; Nieraeyer, 1967)* p. 89. L Elsewhere in this poem Opitz writes:

Wo ist dein Sinn vnd Raht? Was bawst du auff ein HauB das keinen Boden hat/ 0 Mensch/ du Gluckes-Ball/ was hawst du auB den Grunden/ Vnd suchest in dem Bach im Sande deine Siinden? Was lauffst vnnd rennest du vnd schwitzest Tag vnnd Nacht? Was tragst du diese Last/ die sorgenvolle Pracht Durch Recht vnd Vnrecht ein? Jason doch ist kommen An Colchos wilden Strand/ vnd auch vmb Hassz vnd Streit: Da noch kein Gold nicht war da war die gtildne Zeit.

And in a different poem: r AUff/ auff mein Hertz/ und du/ mein gantzer Sinn/ Wirff alles das was Welt ist/ von dir hin;

Ein jeder Mensch hat. etwas das er liebt/ Das einen Giantz der Schonheit von sich gibt; Der suchet Geld/ und trawet sich den Welien; Der grabet fast bifi an den Schlund der Hollen: • •• • In dessen bricht das Alter bey vns ein/ In dem wir blofi vmb nichts geschafftig seyn; Eh als wir es recht mogen innen werden/ 56 57

So kompt der Todt/ vnd rafft vns von der Erden. Wer aber gantz dem Leib ist abgethan/ — Vnd nimpt sich nur der Kimmels=sorgen an/ Setzt alien Trost auff seines Gottes Gnaden/ Dem kan noch Vfelt/ noch Tod/ noch Teufel schaden.

^ Simon Dach, Simon Dacha Gedichte, ed. Walther Ziesemer (Halle: Niemeyer, I636-38), Jf. vols. 6 Georg Rudolf Weckherlin, Georg Rudolf Weckherlina Gedichte, ed. Hermann Fischer (Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesell- schaft, 1968), vol. 2 . p. 170.

^ Georg Greflinger, Seladons bestandige Liebe (Franckfurt am Mayn: Edouard Schleicher, l6 Mf)^ p. 82. o Martin Opitz, "Lob des Feldlebens" in Weltliche Poemata, l6¥f (Deutsche Neudrucke, Reihe: Barock. Tubingen: Niemeyer, 1967), P. 239.

^ Sigmund von Birken, Hochfurstl. Brandenburgischer Ulysses: .... (Beyrouth: J. Gebhardt, I676), Introduction, no pagination.

10 Sigmund von Birken, Ballet der Natur,.... (Beyrouth: Johann Gebhardt, 1662), No pagination. The ballet itself is in four parts representing the four elements. The citation is the fifth section of part two.

^ Sigmund von Birken, Ballet der Natur.

Ip The clause in quotation marks comes from a previous citation on page 16 of this study.

^ Georg Rudolf Weckherlin, Georg Rudolf Weckherlins Gedichte, ed. Hermann Fischer (Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesell- schaft, 1968), vol. 2 . pp. 26^*265.

^ Georg Greflinger, Seladons bestandige Liebe, p. 16.

^ Sigmund von Birken, Brandenburgischer Vlysses, Introduction. No pagination.^

Sigmund von .Birken, Brandenburgischer VlysBes, Introduction. No pagination. 58

^ Martin Opitz , Martini Ooitii Weltliche Poemata.... (Franck- furt am Mayn: T. M. Gotzen,1644), p. 2b.

^ Simon Dach, Simon Dachs Gedichte, vol. 2. p. 28.

19 Ibid., p. 215-

20 Ibid., p. 92.

21 Ibid., p. 98.

22 Ibid., pp. 192-195- CHAPTER III: THE SHIP OF LIFE

a. The Ideological and Cultural Environment of The Ship of Life

Allegory

To appreciate fully the complexity of the ship of life alle­ gory as it is used in German Baroque poetry, one must be aware of the ideological environment in which the metaphor flourished.

Needless to say, it is not possible within the scope of this study to delineate the complexity which comprises the ideological en­ vironment in great detail. Only a rough sketch will be drawn, a sketch which touches superficially on those aspects which bear upon the thrust of this study.

What was the reality of the Baroque period? Luther's unin­ tended, yet decisive break with the Roman Catholic Church in the sixteenth century unwittingly contributed to a Germany ravaged by religious and political strife, the Thirty Years' War, in the seventeenth century. Luther's protest against the corruptions committed by the Church, in turn generated other Protestant revolts and ultimately exploded the previously accepted concept of a uni­ versal, unified Church which had traditionally given stability and order to man's existence on earth. How then could man save his immortal goUl in the midst of a splintering world?

59 Luther declared that man can not save himself through good deeds; God's grace, made available through Christ's death and resurrection, is obtained by faith alone. Man himself can not contribute actively to his own salvation. To be sure, the concept of faith (and repentance) was not a novel idea, for it had always been an aspect of the doctrine of salvation. But during the long history of the Roman Catholic Church, it had become obfuscated by the emphasis on the performance of good works.

Although neither Luther nor Calvin treated religion as a subjective matter or taught religious indivi­ dualism, their basic doctrines of justification by faith alone, the Bible as sole authority, and the universal priesthood of believers (which now desig­ nated equality between laymen and ecclesiastics) encouraged the development of a personal approach to religion and led to basic differences among their respective followers. 1

Luther's dictum "sola fides" meant that man could no longer be delivered of his trespasses by the church. The religious diversi­ fication and dissent coupled with the secularization trend en­ gendered by scholasticism and humanism ultimately resulted in the ascendancy of the dignity and the importance of the individual, and ended in the consequent breakdown of existing religious, po­ litical and-social institutions. The shattering of old values and * institutions left Baroque man in a state of incertitude; because the world was filled with immediate physical danger and ideological conflicts, he desired to escape destruction and confusion. He sought to define his place and role in life and to know the destiny of his soul. In the ship of life poetry, Baroque poets contend with these concerns and many attempt to provide stability in a state of philosophical flux by explaining the newly emphasized role of faith and repentance in obtaining Balvation as they conceive it. b. New Dimensions in the Basic Tenets of the Allegory of Life

Beginning with humanism and augmented by the Protestant Refor­ mation an emphasis on the importance of the individual made its ascendancy. Consequently* the ship of the church allegory of the patristic tradition moved to the periphery and was almost completely replacod during the Baroque period by the ship of life allegory.

However, as Rahner already mentioned, the fate of the soul paral­ lels that of the church; hence the allegory of the soul or life resembles closely the allegory of the ship of church in almost all aspects. In the allegory of life, as depicted in the ship of life poetry, the world continues to be the sea on which man sails. But it iB now man's body, not the church, that is normally described as the ship, and the soul iB its passenger or sailor, though this distinction is not explicitly observed in all poems. Body and soul are usually regarded as an integrated whole symbolizing the general concept of man's life. The goal of life's journey still remains the soul's safe arrival at the desired port, the City of God. But, both the patriarchs and the Baroque poets were concerned with sal­ vation; and though the Baroque poets corrected the traditional schema to conform to the new stress on individualism, they did not discard their religious heritage. Only their interpretation 62 regarding the method of receiving redemption differed.

Baroque poets employed the established schema of depicting man’s progress toward the port as impeded by the traditional dangers of rocks, sandbanks, waves, gales, lightning, and so forth. To avoid shipwreck, that is, eternal damnation, man needs Christ at the helm of the ship of life. Christ's-role as the savior of the ship, however, changed significantly from that of the original pro­ totype, Odysseus. The patriarchs had been concerned about providing a model of correct behavior to be emulated by the members of their congregation. The Odysseus myth satisfied the requirements and thus became foregrounded in patristic literature. In German Baroque literature this prototype is Christ Himself. Man is encouraged to discard all that is temporal and to follow the Word of God and the example of Christ. God's Word and Christ's example become the North

Star by which man must steer his ship to remain on course. Further­ more, Christ's ability to calm the storms becomes a prominent fea­ ture in poetry.

Man continues to be tempted, but the nature of the temptations, which waB symbolized by the sirens in the tradition, changed because the social needs and fears changed. These needs and fears were now summed up by the word "Vergariglichkeit." Transitoriness acquired the same connotation as the sirens had: temptations which divert man from reaching his heavenly goal. In this instance, though the vehicle (image) changed; the tenor (subject) remained fixed. For

Baroque man, the storms, symbolizing the ever-impending threat of death during the Thirty Years' War, were uppermost in his mind. It made him reflect on the transitory quality of all life and earthly goods, and it made him anxious about the destiny of his immortal soul. This reality, coupled with the overwhelming tide of changing ideologies, resulted in a quest for something relevant, tangible and permanent. In an attempt to justify, the phenomena of the Thirty

Years' War and to reconcile the apparent contradictions of life, many Baroque poets espousing religious convictions relied on a"* theological argumentation: the storms of life serve as a test of faith and contrition. If man repents his sins and has absolute faith, God's mercy will be extended to him. However, in some of the ship of life poetry in the Baroque era, Christ is no longer merely the helmsman of the ship, but He becomes an observer who allows the devil to cause the storms and only intercedes when the need is the greatest and man's repentance and faith in God's mercy is sincere.

Another aspect of the seafaring schema which acquired a dif­ ferent stress is the manner of reaching the final port. As evi­ denced by the many funeral poems written during the Baroque period, death plays ja significant role in the allegory of life. Death is the prime prerequisite to entering the eternal port. To Baroque poets, death seemed to symbolize purification by danger, and per­ haps represented a parallel to Christ's descension to hell and ultimate resurrection. 61f

The above generalizations are hardly exhaustive or comprehen­

sive. Nor do they apply uniformly to all the poets of this era

who employ the ship of life metaphor. I shall now turn to repre­

sentative poems to substantiate my theories and to develop more

fully the contributions made by the individual poets.

c. The Receding Use of the Ship of the Church Metaphor

Ptir die Symboltheologie der Schiffsreise und ihre aus antiken Wurzeln genahrte Tradition hat Hugo R a h n e r in tiefdringenden und materialreichen Abhandlungen unter dem Titel "Antenna c r u c i s " eine Fiille von Quellenangaben be- reitgestellt, die ich mir aus dem bei Migne ge- druckten theologischen Schrifttum und deutschen Texten des Mittelalters erganzt habe. Aus alien Belegen ergibt sich, daft wie fast immer in mittel- alterlicher Allegorese neben relativ festen, tra- ditionell aufgenommenen und weitergegebenen Bild- elementen auch variable Bestandteile vorhanden sind, die einer gewissen Freiheit der Deutung noch Spiel- raum gewahren. 2

Neumann's distinction between the fixed and variable components of the sea voyage tradition coincides with the principle of the adapted stereotype. In one sense the variable components, the adaptations, are more important than the fixed parts because the changes reflect the poet's contribution to the established pattern, as I shall il­ lustrate in this section of the chapter.

X examined over one thousand poems in German Baroque literature dealing with seafaring, and among all these examples I have found less than a dozen references to the ship of the church, a fact which illustrates that the ship of the church was no longer of great import to German Baroque poets. The allegory of the ship of the church suffered much the same fate as did the patristic inter­

pretation of the myth of Odysseus and the sirens. One can speculate

that after the Reformation, an event which could well be described

as the shipwreck of the unity of the church, it was no longer cred­

ible for the predominantly Protestant poets v/ho wrote in Germany to

stress salvation as possible only within "the Church." For them,

the traditional schema no longer corresponded with the reality of

the situation, and the reality of the situation ran counter to a successful adaptation or modification of the inherited schema.

Even in the examples X will cite, overtones of individualism al­ ready permeate the ship of the church metaphor. Therein lies the

contribution of the poet: he adapts the ideology of the Reformation

to an existing Catholic oriented pattern of nautical imagery.

In Epigram No. 88 in the fourth hundred of the first thousand of Logau's collection Deutscher Sinn-Getichte drey tausend, he

sketched an outline of the schema of the patristic allegory of the ship of the church in ten succint statements, as follows:

Die Welt

Die Welt ist wie das Meer; jhr Leben ist gar bitter; Der Teuffel/ machet Sturm; die Siinden/ Ungewitter; Drauff_ist die Kirch/ ein Schiff; und Christus SteuerMann; Sein Segel/ ist die Rew; das Creutze/ seine Fahn; Der Wind/ ist Gottes Geist; der Ancker/ das Vertrauen/ , Dadurch man hier kan stehn und"dort im Port sich schauen.

The analogy drawn between the world and the stormy sea in which the church is tossed about like a ship was already utilized by Hippoly- tus. Hippolytus, too, portrayed Christ as the captain or helmsman, and Methodius depicted Satan as the adversary of the ship of the church. The wind symbolizing the Holy Chost was also a part of the traditional schema. As Neumann observes, "Schon bei Ps. Chry- sostomus findet sich der Vfind als HI. Geist aufgefalit..." In the above citation, Logau interprets the flag or banner of the ship as the cross, whereas Hippolytus ascribed to the cross - the mast - the power of victory over death. Since-the raising of thd banner or flag after a battle is the standard symbol of victory, and the mast connoted the trophy of victory over death, the flag and the mast have similar import. Of course, the flag is normally fastened to the mast, hence there is another more prosaic connection between these two objects.

For the greatest part, then, Logau adheres to the traditional renditions of the patristic ship allegories, with the exception of his interpretations of the sail and the anchor as repentance and faith respectively. These variables do not merely constitue Logau's unique contribution to the schema, but rather they are symptomatic of the Lutheran influence of the age. Logau stresses the importance of faith, an affirmation of Lutheran dogma, especially in the last line of the poem by maintaining that faith bridges the gap between this world and the next. He re-enforces the almost nqrstic expla­ nation of the bonds between man andGod structurally in this line as well. The whole poem comprises six alexandrine lines, and each line has a clearly recognizable caesura after the third stress. In the first five lines, a semicolon marks the caesura and divides each line into two distinct halves. Each half line forms one 67

complete statement. This pattern, however, is broken in the last line in which the conjunction "und" replaces the semicolon and joins the two halves of the line to form one completo statement.

The conjunction "und" thus acts as a bridge which unites two for­ merly separate and divided parts, and thus places an emphasis on the bridging function of faith.

Rahner had pointed out that although the church is always in danger of suffering a shipwreck, it is, simultaneously, the only refuge for man in this world. Opitz consurs with this notion in his translation of Heinsius’ Lobgesang Jesu Christi below.

Vnd da die grosse flut von oben ab geschwemmet FloB vber alles volck/ da alles ward verschlemmet/ Vnd da die wilde Bee biB an die wolcken trat/ Vnd zu den sternen selbst sich aufgeschwellet hat/ 1st Noa vnd Bein hauB auff diesera block geschwommen/ Beschlossen in ein holtz/ heraufl auch wieder kommen: Vmbgeben von der flut/ getrieben durch den sund Zwar ausser menschentrost/ doch inner dem verbundt: Den du hernach sehr klar mit Abraham thetst machen/ _ 0 grosser menschenfreundt vnd richter jhrer sachen.

In a footnote Opitz explains this passage in the following manner:

Dannenher kompt es auch/ daB die alten Vater sagen/ der kasten sei gewesen ein fiirbildt der Kirchen auBer welcher niemandt kan erhalten werden: Vndt auBdruck- lich/ die flut/ so das erdtreich bedeckt hatt/ sey fur Noa vnd die seinigen so mit jhm im kasten waren eine tauffe/ fur die andern eine straffe gewesen. Die (sagt Cyprianus im 7» schreiben an Pompejum) nicht haben konnen durch waBer.erhalten werden: als wie die/ so in der Kirche nicht getaufft werden/ da- durch das waBer nicht gereiniget vndt selig gemacht werden. °

The footnote clearly establishes that Opitz was acquainted with the writings and tradition espoused by the church fathers, in which the ark was a symbol for the church. But Opitz does not really emphasize this fact in the text of the poem; he is much more inter­

ested in the flood and its significance for man. As mentioned ear­

lier, Baroque poets were engrossed by the storm aspect of the nau­

tical schema, and in accordance with Lutheran concerns, regarded

them as a test of faith. Opitz' concern about the flood is indica­

tive of this tendency. Opitz interprets the role of the flood as

twofold: it is both an instrument of grace and salvation, and an

instrument of death and damnation. For those within the ark, and

by extension the church, the flood signifies the water of baptism

symbolizing spiritual rebirth.

In Simon Dach's poetry, Lutheran influences are also percep­

tible, even though in the poem below he still appears to utilize

the ship of the church metaphor.

Das schwache Schifflein schwebt in hochster Angst vnd Noht, Vmbringt durch finstre Nacht, durch Sturm, Wind, See vnd Tod, Nicht ich noch demand sieht mehr Hoffnung ubrig seyn, Vnd ietzund schleust daft Meer vnfi all erbarmlich ein, Wo, Christe, du nicht hilffst, nicht von dem Schlaff erwachst Vnd aufi der stoltzen Flut gewunschte stills machst, Du stellst der Wellen Grim vnd alien Sturm in Ruh, Bedrawest du ihn nur, ja winckst du ihm nur zu, f$r solche Wolthat sind wir, dein erloste Schaar, Bereitet hertzlich dir zu dienen immerdar. 7

The situation in which the persona is east parallels that of the

disciples in Mark 4-, 36-Jfl, the episode in which Christ calms the

waves, and reflects a Lutheran concern: man's helplessness and his dependancy on Christ's aid in dire distress. The whole poem

is a curious blend of patristic tradition imbued with a shift in

emphasis towards Lutheran concerns. For example, the lines, "Wo,

Christe, du nicht hilffst, nicht von dem Schlaff erwachst .... Vnd au(l der stoltzen Flut gewunschte stille machst," mirror the same concerns that are expressed in Luther's hymn, "Aus tiefer Noth ruf' g ich zu dir; erhor', o Gott, mein Flehen." Furthermore, it is not

4 established clearly that the ship symbolizes the church though it can be deduced from the general situation. Although the poem is presented by a persona, "ich," the persona acts as the personified voice of the congregation, - for he refers to "noch Jemand" and

"vnft all" in the poem -, who in the last two lineB of the poem speaks for the delivered congregation when he says, "Fur solche

Wolthat sind wir, dein erloste Schaar, Bereitet hertzlich dir zu dienen immerdar." The fact that the situation is described from the viewpoint of the persona, and that the distinction between the

I and the other church members is made in the line, "Nicht ich noch

Jemand sieht mehr Hoffnung iibrig seyn," indicates that the indivi­ dual is considered at least equal in importance to the congregation.

However, the primary intent of Bach's poem is not so much to draw the distinction between the individual and the church as to reveal man's impotency and dependancy on Christ's redemptive powers. Han, on his own, can not save himself. Furthermore, the last two lines prescribe that man's duty entails praising God for having obtained divine aid.

In Harsdorffer's collection, Hertzbewegliche Sonntagsandachten, we find the following didactic poem.

Lehr-Gedicht

ICh war jungste auff dem Meer/ als die Nordensturmer saussten/ als der Wellen Berg und Thai und der Fluten Strudeln braussten/ 70

Unser abgelassner Segel/ saint dem hocherhabnen Mast/ und die Gutter auf dem Schiff e/ waren ein zu leichter Last/ solchem grossen Ungestum kurtze Zeit zu widerstehen/ dass wir in dem schwachen Schiff/ mussten mit den Winden gehen/ bis der Anker ausgeworffen/ und in festen Grund gesenkt/ dass wir jhn nicht mochten sehen/ wie an jhn das Schiff gehenkt Also/ sagt ich bey mir selbsten/ ist mit Augen nicht zu schauen/ wie uns Gott hat auserwehlt/ dessen W o r t wir uns ver- trauen/ als der Hoffnung aller_Christen: Dieser Seel- enanker halt/ wann gleich Jammer/ Creutz und Leiden uns in dieses Schiff- lein fallt GOTT hat uns den GnadenGeist in das reine Hertz gegeben/ Der Hertz und Sennit regiert/ weil wir ini dem Leibe schweben. Dieser muss den Anker werffen und die Hoffnung machen fest/ er versichert unsre Seelen/ Der sich doch nicht sehen last. Wer ist in dem Kirchen-Schiff1 und geneusst der Sacramenten/ wird sich/ durch dess Todes Wurbel/ von dem Stand nicht las- sen lenken. Wol/ wo dieser Anker hafft’/ Gott hat uns all' auser­ wehlt/ weil er uns/ durch seinen Sohn/ ander Froramen zugesehlt. °

Harsdorffer's primary intent lay in depicting the relationship be­ tween the anchor and the ship and its metaphorical application to the relationship between God and the church. This poem, like Dach’s, combines patristic and Lutheran theological elements in exploring this mysterious relationship.

The poem has a tripartite structural pattern in which Hars- dorffer first describes the event,, then interprets the scene meta­ phorically or allegorically, and lastly draws a moral lesson from it. Though the metaphor focuses on the ship of the church, the individual is also assigned a position of importance in the poem, as it iB written from the first person point of view intended to make the experience direct and personal. Xn the beginning of both 71

octaves, the persona refers to himsolf saying, "ICh war jungste

auff dera Meer/" and "Also/ sagt ich bey mir selbsten/."

The incident which gave rise to the speculation about the re- / lationship between God and the church is described in the first

octave. Three particulars of the sea voyage are foregrounded: the

fury of the storms, the vulnerability of the ship, and the function

of the anchor. The purpose of the first two particulars is to highlight the importance of the anchor. If the anchor is dropped

during a violent storm and reaches solid ground, it secures the

ship to prevent its destruction. Yet, after it has been lowered,

the naked eye can not perceive how the anchor is connected to the

ship. In the second octave, the persona interprets this relation­ ship between the anchor and the ship in religious terms. Kan must have faith ("vertrauen") in the truth of God's word, and he must place his trust in God's covenant with him. It is this faith which gives man hope. The anchor symbolizes this hope and faith, the un- perceivable connecting link between God and Christians. The storms which toss the ship about are equivocated to "Jammer/ Creutz und

Leiden," and the "Schifflein" betokens the church. In the final quatrain, the poet pronounces the moral truth to be derived from the allegory. In the first two lines, he borrows the patristic interpretation in emphasizing that only a member of the church who partakes of the sacraments will be redeemed. However, the last two lines are imbued with a Lutheran tinge: God's grace, made available to man through Christ's death and resurrection, is obtained through 72 faith in God's covenant.

In the examples cited above, it is misleading and unfair to the poets to simply read the ship of the church metaphor into the allegories, for the poets seem concerned with the church in name only, not in conviction. The Reformation with its emphasis on the individual, of obtaining salvation by faith alone, had set the stage for the receding use of the ship of the church metaphor and the ascendance of the ship of life metaphor. As noted earlier, there is a switch of emphasis occurring even in the poems which 4 could technically be construed as dealing with the ship of the church. For example, in Simon Dach's poem discussed on page sixty- eight, the "Ich" is a personified voice of the congregation. Thus the "uns" and "wir" is really the "Ich." As the metaphor of the ship of the church became peripheral in the literature of the Ba­ roque period, other aspects of the tradition of nautical imagery were stressed. Ab did Dach, poets accentuated the power and func­ tion of the storms, foregrounded the individual's helplessness in the face of these perils, and emphasized the need for faith in

Christ's redemptive powers. The Thirty Years' War was analogous to the destructive winds and waves against which man felt impotent.

Only a superior power, the poets ascertained, could end the suf­ fering caused by war. Hence the episode of Christ's calming of the tempest, which had only played a minor role in the patristic tradition, now assumed a significant role as an appropriate and timely symbol of hope for mankind. d. Basic Tenets of the Ship of Life Allegory

Johannes Scheffler's (Angelus Silesius'} CherubInischer Wan- dersman contains the following epigram.

Die geiBtliche Schiffahrt

Die Welt ist meine See, der Schiffman Gottes Geist, ^ Das Schiff mein Leib: die Seel ists, die nach Hause reist.

The conceptual parallel of the above epigram to the patristic alle­ gory of the ship of the church is unmistakable: the sea still de­ signates the world, and the destination of the voyage remains the heavenly home. To be sure, the helmsman is the Holy Ghost, not

Christ; but this deviation from the accepted schema constitutes only a minor change, as Christ and the Holy Ghost are conceived as one in the mystery of the Trinity. Hence, in this epigram, the only variant from the tradition is the identification of the ship ( with the body in which'the soul is the passenger.

The syntactical arrangement of the sentence points to Scheff­ ler's concern for the soul's destiny. The first three statements of the poem comprise a single unit, sharing a common verb, and hav­ ing the same syntactic structure. However, the last statement breaks thiB pattern, inasmuch as it is preceded by a colon, intro-

♦ duced by a relative clause, and the verb is repeated. These changes draw the reader's attention to the declaration "die Seel iBts, die nach Hause reist." furthermore, the effective repetition of "die," first as a definite article and then as a relative pronoun, also accentuates the soul to which the world and the body play a 7^ subordinate role. The latter are only significant in the way they affect the soul's journey toward its home.

A more detailed delineation of the allegory of life can bo found in the following poem from Harsdorffer’s Hertzbewegliche

Sonntagsandachten.

Ein Schiff/ der Schachtel gleich/ schwebt sonder Ankerbande. Das schwache Fiechtenhaus verworffen von den Winden/ ein Pall dess Unglucks erwartet dess Qeschicks/ bey Steuer/ Segel/ Mast/ ist schlechter Trost zu finden. Der Hafen und das Land sind leider langst entschwommen. Wer darauf hoffen will/ ist feme von dem Ziel und wird/ nach seinem Tod/ erst an das Ufer kommen. Was ist der Schiffer Trost/ wann sie in Nothen stehen/ sie hoffen/ dass geschwind ein langverlangter Wind/ durch Qottes milde Gnad/ komm aus den Wolkenhohen. Ihr Menschen lernet hier/ auf wen sich zu verlassen/ wann wir in Aengsten sind: nicht auff der Erden Wind/ der uns treibt von dem Strand/ auf wilder tfellen Strassen. Der S c h i f f*e r ist die Seel/ das Schiff des Leibes Krippen/ das in den Threnen schwebt und in Gefahre lebt/ wann sie mehrmals gemacht der Kranken Felsen Klippon. Was Hoffnung haben wir/ wie kan man Trost erlangen/ nicht von dem Erdenlaad/ nicht von der Inselstrand: Vom HiRlel mussen wir die best Hiilff empfangen. Der sanffte Sudenwind/ der susse G e i s t der G n a d e n wend alles zu gutem End/ und wer den in sich kennt/ dem wird dess Satans Sturm nur zeitlich konnen schaden. Weh dem/ der sicher ruht/ wie Jonas hat geschlaffen/ wann kommt der Sturcernord: Wol dem/ der fort und fort vertrauet GOtt/ der Meer und Winden hat zu schaffen.

In this poem, Harsdorffer attempts to adhere to the tripartite structure normally found in this collection: the presentation of 75

an event, the metaphoric or allegoric rendition of the scene, and

lastly, the moral lesson to be abstracted from it. During life's

pilgrimage, Harsdorffer intimates, man's soul can only reach its

desired port with divine aid. He underscores the reason for man's

dependence on God by accentuating the ship's fragility and transi­

tory quality ("schwache Fiechtenhaus," "der Schachtel gleich"),

its helplessness ("sonder Ankerbande," "verworffen von don Winden,"

"ein Pall des Unglucks"), and its passivity ("erwartet dess Ge-

schicks"). Even the rudder, sail, and maBt which are imperative

for navigation are rendered ineffectual by the storm. The sailors

contending with these problems are admonished by the poet not to

depend on "der Erden Wind" which will only blow them off course

into a violent storm, but to hope for a "langverlangter" wind, a

gift from God.

In the second part of the poem, Harsdorffer draws an analogy between the ship's predicament and man's condition on earth. He

assigns the same symbolic value to the sailor and the Bhip as did

Scheffler: "Der Schiffer ist die Seel/ das

S c h iff des Leibes Krippen." The sea, however, 1b not con­

ceptualized as the world, but as the tears shed by man's suffering

due to his misfortunes. This distinction is a sensitive, refined adaptation of the traditional stereotype. But it is the only one.

The didactic import of the poem is that man can not obtain salva­

tion by relying on temporal things. To conquer the physical dangers and spiritual perils created by satan, he must rely on God who has dominion over them.

Harsdorffer drew the distinction between body and soul, and by extension between the temporal and the eternal in his presenta­ tion of the allegory of life to explicate the roles of faith and

God's mercy in man's salvation. Although Harsdorffer did not elab­ orate on what man is to be saved from (except for his reference to

"Satan's Sturm"), it is implied that to be redeemed man must over­ come the power of sin. In the poem, "Von der Schiffahrt dess menschlichen Lebens," Harsdorffer defined and catalogued the nature 12 of Bin in great detail. However, the distinction between body and soul as ship and sailor as drawn by Harsdorffer is not always observed explicitly, especially if the subject treated does not really demand such a fine differentiation. In the following funeral poem, for example, the ship is simply "Everyman" as expressed by H — the pronoun "wir." In this poem, Hist concentrates on another as­ pect of the allegory of life: the function of death as a liberator from suffering.

Did Leben ist ein Meer/ worauff ein taglich Brausen Der Unglucks Wellen und ein unaufhorlichs Sausen Der mancherlei Gefahr: Wir schiffen iraraer fohrt Bid uns der bleiche Tod zeigt den erwunschten Port Der angenehmen Huh': Es sind zwahr viel zu finden/ Die fahren iiber Meer getrieben von den V/in den Sehr schleunig an dad Land/ und andre miissen sehn Bei gar zu sanfter Luft Jhr Schifflein stille stehn. Zwei Schifflein fahren fohrt/ Hispanien zu gruesen/ Jhr' Arbeit und Gefahr daselbsten zuversiissen Mit vielerlei Gewinn'/ ob Sie nun beide zwahr Mit gleichen Segeln gehn/ so setzet doch did Paar Zugleich nicht an dad Land; dad erst* hat kaum genomen Vier Wochen zu der Heid' und ist gahr zeitig kommen An den begehrten Ohrt/ dad ander lauft fein sacht' . 77

Hat driiber auf der Seevier Monaht zugebracht/ Fiirwahr daB erste Schiff wird nimmer sich beklagen/ A1B wer* es gaihr zu schnell an diesen ohrt getragen/ Es wird recht frolig sein/ daB es in kurtzer Frist So mancherlei Gefahr der See entrunnen ist. So geht es auch mit uns: Wir miissen all* uns stellen Auf diesen Unglucks Meer/ es jagen uns die Wellen Der Triibsahl fohrt und fohrt/ doch ist ein Unterscheid Der Hinfahrt durch den Tod am Alter und der Zeit. Bald stirbt ein junges Bluht/ daB kaua die Welt gesehen/ Bald ein betagter MaS/ bald muB zu Grabe gehen Ein unverzagter Held und bald ein schones Bild Hier gilt kein schonen nicht/ der Tod ist viel zu wild/ Er treibt die Segel fohrt/ Er jagt uns durch die Fluhten/ Und halt doch Unterscheid in Stunden und Minuten/ Jmmitelt fahrt daB/ wafi Leben hat/ dahin Und legt sich in den Staub. Wer wil nun seinen Sinn 0 du bethorter Mensch urn dises viel betruben/ DaB auf dem Svinden Meer Er sich nicht langer uben Noch selbst sich quahlen mag? Je friier dz man stirbt/ Je friier man die Huh und Seligkeit erwirbt. Wer dises recht bedenkt/ der wird den Tod nicht scheiien/ Ein solcher kan vielmehr im Sterben sich auch freiien Und wandlen unverzagt die tunkle Todesbahn/ -- Wie dises unser Herr von Kettler hat gethan:

The passage cited is a part of a long funeral poem which purports to demonstrate "wie kurtz dieB eitle Leben sei." Four distinct parts are perceptible: the first eight lines comprise a general statement in nautical terms depicting man's life on earth with a particular stress on the difference in lifespans; the next twelve lines are a nautical allegory of man's lifespan: the next twelve lines explicate the allegory in terms of death; and the last sec- • tion, beginning in the middle of line thirty-two, derives the moral lesson. In the first section, man is portrayed as assaulted by the storms of misfortune until death delivers him and conveys him to his "erwiinschten Fort der angenehmen Huh." Delineating death as a liberator of the soul imbues it with positive overtones. Hist further defines death as a universal force affecting all mankind.

Only the time and place differ. Beginning line nine, Rist relates an allegory in which he compares the lifespan of man to the voyage of two ships heading for the same destination, Spain. Both in the introduction and in this analogy, the port is designated as a place where man obtains his reward; the formey with "angenehmen Ruh" as opposed to the tribulations of life, the latter with "Jhr' Arbeit und Gefahr daselbsten zuversussen Mit vielerlei Gewinn'." This analogy is a refined adaptation of the traditional stereotype, and corresponds with the positive connotation attributed to commerce during the Baroque period. In the allegory the time element in­ troduced in the first section is again mentioned: one ship arrives at the destination in four weeks, the other in four months. And to complement the concept that death signifies an escape from life's miseries, the poet claims the first ship "wird recht frolig sein/ daB es in kurtzer Frist Bo mancherlei Gefahr entrunnen ist.11

Beginning line twenty-one, Rist elucidates the meaning of the allegory in light of the dual function of death: as the leveller and as the force setting the ship of life into motion. Death,

Rist attests, does not take age, talent, courage, or beauty into consideration - all men are equal to him, and he ‘equalizes them through death. This medieval concept is coupled with an interesting modification of the tenor, which is that to death is ascribed the function of driving man's soul to the port, a task usually performed by the Holy Ghost. This transference of roles further contributes to making death a more benign force.

In the concluding last eight and one-half lines, Rist once more expounds his moral philosophy: "Je friier dz man stirbt/ Jo

friier man die Ruh und Seligkeit erwirbt." This thought is to con­ sole the survivors of Herr von Kettler, and to help them accept

death. Rist further prescribes the attitude man should have towards

death by positing, "Wer dises recht bedenkt/ der wird den Tod nicht scheiiei/Ein solcher kan vielmehr im Sterben sich auch freiien Und wandlen unverzagt die tunkle Todesbahn."

Another divergence from the patristic tradition which is symptomatic of Baroque literature is Harfi.d.QrJfier's and Rist's foregrounding of the role and effect of the storms in the journey of man's life, and the resultant emphasis placed on the roles of faith and repentance. To be sure, God, the Father, wants to save

His children, but the children must be worthy of being redeemed.

As Harsdorffer writes:

GOtt lasset Hulffe schauen/ die seinem Wort vertrauen; Er will in Schiffbruchnothen uns vatterlich erretten. *5

In Rist's poem, "Eines zu Wasser/ oder auf den wilden See fahren- den Menschen," the references to storms in almost all fifteen stan­ zas testify to the severity of their danger, and also indicate that their danger is uppermost in the sailor's mind. They induce the sailor to realize his need for God's help, as he implores,

HERR halte du das Steiir/ Wenn sich gantz Ungeheur Das wilde Meer erzeiget 8o

Und unser Schiff sich neigct Als must es untergehen/ Ach laB dis nicht gescheheni

Mein GOtt/ gleich wie du schnell Die Kinder Jsraol Durchs rohte Meer gefuhret DaB sie kein Meer berUhret/ So wollest du•* bewahren Auch uns im Uberfahren.

Ftihr' uns bald in den Port/ An den erwiinschten Ohrt'/ LaB sich das Wetter wenden Und frolich uns anlanden/ Beselig* unser Reisen ^ DaB wir dich hertzlich preisen.

The legacy which Luther bequeathed to his followers is doubt. His break from the Homan Catholic Church left his proselytes bereft of their security which went hand in hand with belonging to the ship of the church. In the patristic tradition, Christ was already at the helm. In many Baroque poems, however, man must supplicate

Christ to command the helm and deliver him from damnation.

The above poem, however, probeB another disturbing notion:

Is man worthy of being saved? In Btanza eleven (not cited), the speaker acknowledges his and his companions' sins to be so grave, that they may not merit God's grace, and the sailors express a disquietude_at the thought that the storm is created by God as a punishment for their trespasses. This fear is communicated in another poem by Rist entitled: "Andachtiges Lied Der jenigen/ welche auff der See oder zu Wasser fahren/ daB sie der getreiie

GOtt fur allera Unglukke bewahren/ und hernachmahls an Leib und

Giithern wolbehalten/ frisch und gesund zu dem erwunschten Ohrte wolle kommen lassen." The sailors reflect,

Ach HErr/ wenn Jch es recht betracht/ Ob nicht die Winde Sind gemacht Auch theils zur Bach'/ erschrekk/ Jch sehr/ Ja weis Mich kaum zu trosten mehr. U

In the noise of the winds and the waves, the sailors hear primarily the voice of God's wrath.

The response to Luther's "sola fides" was a reevaluation and redefinition of the doctrine of salvation. Luther's unrelenting insistence that God's grace is obtained by faith alone unwittingly placed the responsibility of obtaining salvation on the individual and the strength of his faith. No longer could man rely upon the membership in the church universal, upon performing good deeds, upon the intercession of the Virgin Mary and the saints, or even upon purchasing indulgences in his attempts to gain salvation.

Consequently, in Baroque literature, God permits the devil to in­ flict storms upon the sinner both as a testing device and as an instrument of punishment. Man, alone in his plight and devoid of a mitigator to intervene between himself and God's wrath, fights his own battle until he has proven the sincerity of his contrition and .the strength of his faith. So the sailor in Rist's poem en­ treats God,

Verzeih' inmittelst alle Schuld/ Behuht' uns auch fur Ungedult/ Und gib uns doch zu dieser friBt/ Das/ was uns nutz und selig ist.

Sei du der Schiffer/ Steurman/ Held/ Und mach' es bloft wie dirs gefalt/ Doch fiihr' uns durch die Fluten schnel Wie dort die Kinder Jsrael. But is the devout Christian guaranteed salvation? Rist answers

this question in the affirmative in the poem, whose partial title reads: "Herrlicher und krafftiger Trost fur alle fromme Christen/ welche auff den ungestuhmen WeltMeore/ vor den grausahmen Ungluks 19 Wellen vielmahls hefftig erschrekket und bedekket werden."

The full title refers to chapter eight.jof the gospel according to

St. Matthew which relates the incident of Christ calming the storm.

The fact that Rist designed this poem to be a "Herrlicher und krafftiger Trost ..." determines the approach to the subject. Al­ though the dangers afflicting man on the sea of life are delineated, they are minimized as the saving act of Christ assumes central im­ portance. Stanza two proclaims that Christ, because of his kinship to man, will redeem the true Christian, just as He rescued hiB disciples in the biblical account. And Christ is deemed as a paragon to be emulated because of the courageous way he coped with suffering, anguish and trepidation during his stay on earth, as well as the way he conquered death. Hence, Rist avers, the devout

Christian should regard the storms of life as a test to prove him­ self worthy of His example.

But what malevolent force prevents man from imitating Christ?

Many Baroque poets espouse the idea that this force is man's own base desires and cravings for the world's deceitful promises and transitory values. Man's depraved nature draws him towards earthly goods despite his knowledge that it may destroy his immortal soul.

The persona in one of Rist's poems reproaches himself, ICh bin auf raich im Zorn entbrand, Empfinde Gram und Schmerizen, Dae du, 0 Welt-, du Kummer=Land, Q — Mir oft noch gehst zu Hertzen.

He is confounded by the enigma of being attracted to a world in which values are reversed and perverted so that sinners are rewarded whereas model Christians are punished.

Nein, nein, Ich schawe hin vnd her Kan aber nichts ersehen, Als nur ein bodensloses Meer Der Sunden, so geschehen: Da Tugend Schiffbruch leiden mufi, Da Bosheid wird erhohet, Vnd (achi den Erommen zu verdrufl) Kir vollem Segel gehet. ^1

While sailing the sea of the world, man's life and b o u I are con­ stantly endangered by his predilection to succumb to the pleasures of the world which draw him from his duty to respond to God's powerful, inscrutable love. "So jemand die Welt lib hat/ in dem ist nicht die Libe des Vat ter s," a citation from the first Epistle of St. John, chapter 2, verse 15, is the motto of another of Rist's poems in which he contends that the love of the world and the love of God are mutually exclusive. Man must chose between them. If one compares the inherent values of each type of love and realizes that love of the world produces no returns whereas love for God yields mutual love, the choice should be easy. RiBt then defines the bond existing between God and man in a nautical analogy: God's love must be to man's heart what the anchor is to the ship. The corollary to this analogy is that the Christian who cherishes God's love will not succumb to the temptations of the world. The function of the anchor in this poem resembles that of Harsdorffer's poem cited previously, in which he interpreted the anchor as faith in 22 God's word. But faith in God's word is only another way of saying faith in God's redemptive power, which is ultimately based on His love for mankind.

So far I have dealt extensively with the ship of life metaphors by Harsdorffer and Hist, because their works contain almost all the basic tenets of the allegory as it appears throughout the body of

German Baroque literature. In the following pages, X shall examine some of these basic tenets of the sea allegory of life in greater detail as they are presented by other poets of thiB era. e. The Function of Death in the Soul's Pilgrimage

In an era ravaged by the Thirty Years' War, it is not surpri­ sing that the poets ore preoccupied with the topic of death, es­ pecially in the many funeral poems written to commemorato a de­ ceased family member with the intent of consoling the surviving family and friends. Dach, for example, depicts the deceased's demise as follows:

Er ist gelandet an den Port Den Ruh und Lust umbgiebet Vnd weder Pest noch Krieges=Mord In Ewigkeit betrtibet.

Time and time again, dying is described as the soul's safe arrival at the desired port of eternal peace and happiness. The descrip­ tion of heaven^since it can not be based on empirical evidence, is often presented by contrasting heaven and earth. And frequently, 85 as is the case with Dach's poem, heaven is portrayed as the absence of life's tribulations. Many poets encourage the survivors to reflect upon their own misories and exhort them not to grieve for the deceased person fortunate enough to be delivered from temporal distress. In another poem, Dach writes,

Nun seyd von jhm gegrusst viel taijsent tausent mahll Er ist hinweg geholt aus diesem Thranen=Thal: Jst in die Zahl der Frommen, Jn vnser Vater=Land, Mit Frewden aufgenommon, Vnd ruht in Qottes Hand.

Er kennt nicht mehr die Welt, nicht mehr die bose Zeit, Den Trug, die Heucheley, das viele Hertzeleid Jn welchem wir noch schweben. Wir wallen hin vnd her Mit Sturm vnd Fluht vmgeben Qleich wie ein Schiff im Meer.

Vns mangelt Thaw vnd Mast. Wir jrren Ruder=lofi, Vnd gehn bald Himmel=an, bald in der Hollen SchloIS. LielS vns nicht Qott noch hoffen Auff seiner Gnaden Schein, Wir mochten langst ersoffen, Vmb hal(5 vnd Seelen seyn.

Schawt seiner Vnschuld Lob, vnd guten Wandel an, Fahrt ferner also fort zu thun, wie er gethan. Vnd schont zuletzt der Zehren. . Jn dieses Vngestum Wird er nicht wiederkehren., Wir kommen bald zu jhm.

The above four stanzas touch upon the major established tenets in

* the allegory of life in a straightforward, folksy manner easily understandable by a bourgeois audience. The world is portrayed as a "ThranensThal" pervaded with "Trug,” "Heucheley,” and "viele

Hertzeleid,” in which the ship of life - devoid of ropes, mast and rudder - is subject to the caprices of the winds and waves. This hapless condition afflicting everyman is contrasted to the fortunate destiny of the departed who is united with other privileged,_devout

Christians in celestial repose. Dach not only underscores the desirability of death by contrasting the joy of the "Vater^Land" to the miseries of the "ThranensThEG." but he also attempts to dis­ miss gruesomeness associated with dying by announcing emphatically in the first line, "Nun seyd von jhm gegrusst viel tausent tausent mahli" The unexpected, startling immediacy of this greeting creates the illusion that the deceased is still alive and well. Even though the corpse is lying in the grave, the spirit of the dead speaks through the poet. An interesting phenomena connected with funeral poems, including those written by Dach, is that the deceased often takes over the function normally ascribed to Odysseus and Christ.

The deceased becomes a new paragon to be emulated by the survivors.

Dach avers that if the- latter have faith in Qod's mercy and imitate the departed's example, they too shall be redeemed. This is another example of a successful adaptation of a stereotype to the demands of the situation.

The method of contrasting heaven and earth in order to diminish man's horror of death is also used by Hofmanswaldau. But in this poem, as is usual, the nautical imagery is peripheral to the theme of immortality, as evidenced below.

Es will mein reiner Geist auf reinen Hafen lenken/ Da er von wildem Sturm und Wellen sicher sey. Drey Furatenthiimer werd ich leicht verlassen/ Wenn vor «den Hertzogs-Hut ich Kronen kan umfassen. Mich kront die Ewigkeit/ Ich bin der Sterblichkeit entrissen/ Ich Bchaue Pracht und Macht itzt unter raeinen Fussen/ — An statt des Winters ist die laue Frulings=Zeit; Die Kronen/ so mir um die Schlafe schweben/ Hat mir der grosse Furst dor Ewigkeit gegeben.

Mir scheint das hohe Licht/ Itir dem der Sterne Heere veichen/ Und dem der guldne Giants der Sonnen nicht zu gleichen/ Was Nacht und Schatten heisat/ kennt itzt mein Auge nicht/ Es weiss der Sonnen Strahl hier nicht zu blenden/ Und die Vergnugung quillt aus uberreichen Han den.

Ich lebe nun vergnligt/ Und habe dieses Lob erworben: Wer wohl gelebet hat/ ist allzuwohl gestorben. Ich habe Regungen und Sterblichkeit besiegt/ Ich will das Wort zu meiner Grabschrift haben: -- Man kan die Tugend nicht mit Haut und Bein vergraben.

In this poem, Hofmanswaldau concretizes an abstract vision of eternity. In the first two lines, the conventional nautical imag­ ery - the port, the storm and waves - is imbued with meanings si­ milar to those in Dach's poems. However, Hofmanswaldau adds yet another nuance to the function of death. The repetition of the word pure in "reiner Geist" and "reinen Hafen" is a subtle impli­ cation that death is a purification process. The soul is depicted as directing its course towards the eternal port and relinquishing the "FUrstenthumer." However, if one takes the persona'b statement made in the last line of the poem, "Man kan die Tugend nicht mit

Haut und Bein vergraben," into account, the purification does not entail an absolving of sins, but rather the freeing of the pristine soul from the transitory body. This concept deviates from Dach's view of man as-a sinner. The statement "Drey FUrstenthumer werd ich leicht verlassen/ Wenn vor den HertzogswHut ich Kronen kan umfassen" which seems puzzling in the first stanza, is elucidated in the second stanza, when it becomes apparent that the "liirsten-

thuraer" allude to worldly possessions and the "Kronen" symbolize immortality.

In the second stanza, Hofmanswaldau uses rhetorical repetition in variation,

Mich kront die Ewigkeit/ Ich bin der Sterblichkeit entrissen/ Ich schaue Pracht und Macht itzt unter meinen Fussen/ An statt des Vinters ist die laue Fruhlings=Zeit; to accentuate the theme of immortality, and in the first line the persona is the object of the action to underscore the idea that immortality is a gift conferred to man by the "Furst der Ewigkeit."

The mortality-immortality motif is complemented by the death symbol,

"Winters," and the regeneration symbol, "Fruhlings=Zeit." In the

third stanza Hofmanswaldau enhances the imperial imagery used in

the first two stanzas with light imagery. The clause, "Mir scheint

das hohe Licht," connotes that the persona is both guided and at­

tracted by God. In having "das hohe Licht" symbolize God, Hof­ manswaldau is subtly borrowing from the nautical tradition in which

God or Christ is described as man's "Leitstern." He further con­

trasts the "hohe Licht" to the temporal, transitory light in "Son­ nen Strahl" and the absence of light in "Nacht" and "Schatten."

The repetition of "nicht" emphasizes the great extent to which God

in his scintillating glory eclipses other lights, both temporal and

celestial. Then, in the last line of this stanza, "Und die Ver­

gnugung quillt aus uberreichen Handen," Hofmanswaldau employs the termB "quillt" and "uberreich" to describe the bounteous grace of

God.

As Baroque poets are wont to do in funeral poems, the didactic intent of the poem is pronounced in the final stanza: virtue is rewarded with immortality. When the deceased in this poem says,

•'Ich lebe nun vergmigt/" it does not signify that he suffered in life as did Dach's deceased. In fact, in a section of the poem not cited here, the persona states that he was happy and beloved by all, including the emperor himself. Yet, despite this good for­ tune, he joyfully exchanges life for immortality, for he knows all earthly things are transitory.

Whereas Hofmanswaldau depicted death as the liberator of the pristine soul from its corporeal prison, Dach, who has the tendency to be dogmatic, develops the theological implications of dying more •» wt extensively in "Wahre Freyheit." Dach maintains that spiritual freedom is a gift of God, purchased with Christ's blood. Whoever accepts this gift of redemption on faith and overcomes his sins has obtained true freedom.

Er giebt der schnoden Lust nicht raum, Halt die Begierden streng' im Zaum, Sucht einig Gott zu loben, Hat Scham der Laster Joch zu ziehn, Nachdem sein Heyland sich fur ihn Selbst in den Tod gegeben.

The attitude prescribed for man assailed by the storms of poverty and disease is that of cheerful acceptance. Patience makes a man

"bescheiden" in the knowledge that suffering on earth has its spi­ ritual rewards. But the worst bondage which man encounters and 90 must conquer is his fear of death.

Die argste.Knechtschafft endlich scheint — . Der Tod zu seyn, der letzte Feind, Zeigt er uns seine Klawen, Jns ewig1 Blend uns verbannt, Da wir der Schatten finstres Land Vnd die Verwesung schawen.

Was aber ist der Frommen Tod? Nichts als die Endschafft aller Noht, Jhr Wunschen und Verlangen, Der Haffen ihrer grosen Miih, Vnd eine Thur durch welche sie Zur Freyheit erst gelangen (p. 251).

Man should not perceive death as a dreaded event, which, of course, he does, but rather as the port and gateway leading to the ultimate freedom - salvation.

With the widespread tendency in funeral poems to portray death as conveying the soul to its celestial port, death itself on occa­ sion becomes the ship which transports the passenger, the soul, to its final destination'.' Birken writes:

Nun/ ich seh/ es ist das Ende meiner Tage vor der Thur. es ist Zeit/ dass ich ablande von dem ErdenLande hier/‘ dass ich fahre ab gen Himrael. Tod! du wirst das Schifflein seyn. Meine Seele! sitz darein/ eil aus diesem Windgewimmel. Ihr/ ihr treuen Engel ein! werdet Bootsgesellen seyn.

Schnode Welt! ich will mit Freuden dir jetzt sagen guts Nacht. Ach! du hast mir manches Leiden/ du hast mir oft leid/ gemacht. Stind und tugerechtes Wesen/ Angst und Trubsal wohn in dir: • es ist lauter Jammer hier. Jeztund hoff' ich zu genesen/ 91

jezt reis ich/ aus fremden Sand/ in mein liebst.es Vatterland. —

JESU! Einigs Heil der Erden! sey mein treuer Stouerman: dann ich denke/ dass mich werden Hollen-Wogen fallen an/ in den Abgrund mich zu senken. Achl mein Glaub das Ruder sey/ deine starke Hand darbey. Lass die Wellen nicht ertranken/ diss mein Schifflein/ das von hier« mich wegfuhrt und bringt zu dir.

The persona's attitude toward forsaking the world is positive, for he says, "Schnode Welti ich will mit Freuden dir jezt sagen gute

Nacht." However, he anticipates being attacked by the forces of hell, and thus implores Christ to become the helmsman. Birken, as

is indicative of the ship of life poetry, emphasizes three con­ cerns: the grave dangers, "Hollen-Wogen," the importance of faith, the rudder, and the need for Christ's redemptive power in the soul's pilrimage towards the Kingdom of God.

Perhaps one of the most vivid and sensitive expressions of the soul's yearning for heaven, arid by extension wishing for death, are the following stanzaB by Angelus SileBius.

Ich wall auf Erden hin und her, Gleich wie ein Schiff im Meer. Mich verlanget einzulaufen In den sichern Seelenport, Da man Friede findt mit Haufen Und sich furcht vor keinem Mord. Mich verlangt mit grosser Pein, Jesu Christ, bei dir zu sein.

Ich wende mich zwar fur und fiir, Mein Leitetern, Herr zu dir; Aber ach, was hilft mein Wenden Und was minderts meine Pein, Wenn ich noch nicht soil vollenden Meine Fahrt und bei dir sein! Ach, das ich doch bin behaft Mit so langer Pilgramschafti

• • *

So hilf mir doch genadig fort, Mein Leitstern und mein Port. Komm und mach es nicht mehr lange, Denn ich seufze wie die Braut, Der nach ihrem Brautgara bange, Welchem sie Bich hat vertraut. Hole mich erfreulich ein, 2g Lass mich ewig bei dir sein.

Whereas the persona in Birken's poem expressed only joy at quitting the world, the persona in Silesius' poem exhibits a great urgency to unite with Christ. This consuming urgency is punctuated by the use of exclamation marks in the second Btanza and by the personal address directed to Christ in the third stanza when he pleads,

"So hilf mir doch," "Koram und mach es nicht mehr lange," "Hole mich erfreulich ein," and "Lass mich ewig bei dir sein." The languishing craving of the soul to reach its destination is evidenced in such verbs as "verlanget," "wende," and "seufze." And the persona's compulsion to shed his ephemeral coil is expressed in the clauses with vivid verbs, such as, "Ich wall auf Erden hin und her," and

"dass ich doch bin behaft Mit so langer Pilgramschaft!" The final stanza terminating with the line, "Lass mich ewig bei dir sein," transforms the whole poem into a fervent prayer for salvation.

Almost all the basic tenets of the ship allegory are present in this poem: the world is the stormy sea, sailed by the ship of the soul whose destination is the celestial port. The "Leitstern" 93 by which the soul sets its course is Christ Himself. Whereas the speaker in Birken's poem demonstrated a resigned acceptance of death when he observed, "es ist Zeit/ dass ich ablande von dem

ErdenLande hier/ dass ich fahr ab gen Himmel," the speaker in Si- lesius* poem almost seems oblivious to the presence of death, in his death wish, as the desire for spiritual consummation possesses his soul. Only the strongest of faith which allows only for the possibility of salvation can express such a strong yearning for death.

Although death releases man from the evils and suffering of the world, not all men automatically enter Heavenly Jerusalem. It is the acute awareness of this possibility which in the final analysis makes death such a dreaded occurrence. God is not only the benevo­ lent Father, He is also the Judge, and death is the time of judg­ ment: roan's actions on earth determine his worthiness for redemp­ tion, and the test may or may not be passed. Finally, the process of dying entails entering the realm of the unknown, and man attempts to make this experience a meaningful one. Gryphius* sonnet, "An die Welt," exemplifies man's paradoxical striving for the heavenly port, and yet fearing the unknown realm of death.

Hein of ft bestiirmtes schiff, der grimmen winde spiel, Der frechen wellen ball, das schier die flut getrennet. Das wie ein schneller pfeil nach seinem ziele rennet, Kommt vor der zeit an port, den meine seele wil. Offt, wenn uns schwartze nacht im mittag uberfiel, Hat der geschwinde blitz die segel schier verbrennet. Wie offt habe ich den wind und nord' und sud verkenneti Wie schandhafft ist der mast, steur, ruder, schwerdt und kieli Steig aus du muder geisti steig aus! wir sind am lande. Was graut dir fur detn port? itzt wirst du aller bande Und angst und herber pein und schwerer schmertzen los. Ade, verfluchte weltI du see voll rauer sturmel Gluck zu mein vaterlandl das stete ruh’ im schirme Und schutz und frieden halt, du ewig-lichtes schloss.

The inner conflict experienced by the speaker in this sonnet mani­ fests itself in the ample use of antitheses. Although the anti­ theses comprise a conscious artistic effort by Gryphius to express rational objectivity, this technique at the same time lends the poem a quality of sincerity and verisimilitude, as the persona seems to be involved in a desperate search for salvation. And, as was applicable to Birken's poem, this sonnet includes the major aspects of the ship allegory.

In the first quatrain, Gryphius presents the internal and ex­ ternal discord in nautical terms: he depicts the soul, the "schiff as subject to the caprices of ill fortune, "Dor frechen wellen ball

Even though the ship is not in control of its course, it speeds towards its destination like an arrow in flight. Another seeming contradiction is that the ship arrives at the desired port too soon

However, if the port connotes both death and heaven, this paradox is resolved; for, it is understandable that the narrator should both dread and desire landing at such a port. In the second qua-

* train, Gryphius amplifies the phrase "offt bestUrmtea schiff" by repeating "offt," and describing how pitifully damaged his mast, rudder, lee-board and keel are.

In the first line of the sestet the narrator exhortB his spirit, tired from the continual battle against wind and storm, to disembark, for the shore has been reached. The repetition of the

imperative, "steig ausl", seems to indicate that despite the weari­

ness, the soul is not overjoyed at its arrival at the safe port.

The question, "Was graut dir fur dem port?", underscores the soul’s

reluctance to leave the ship, and the ensuing "pep talk" is the voice of reason attempting to dispel the soul's irrational dread.

In the last tercet the emotions and the voice of reason have reached

a state of equilibrium as the persona cheerfully bids the "damned world" farewell, and the soul acquiesces to being enveloped by the

eternal repose, refuge and peace of the "vaterland."

In the above sonnet, death was still regarded as the liberator

from suffering on earth, but man's haunting fear of death - the moment of judgment - could not be suppressed. This explains the many admonitions to man not to fear death, and Dach once prescribes an antidote to this fear. Man must constantly conduct his life in accordance with God's will to avoid damnation.

Deine Satzung sagte: neini Schlagt GOtt sich nicht darein, Nur umsonst ist was wir tichten. Wie ein Schiff sieht nach der Zier Der Gestirne, mussen wir Vns nach seinem Willen richten.

Dieser Leit=Stern fiihrt uns wol, Er ist Trew=und Liebe=vol, Keiner ist durch ihn betrogen:' Wer nicht ihm folgt, dessen Boht Wird den Syrten aller Noht -q Vhd Verdarbnis eingezogen.

The above lines establish the proper relationship between God and man in a nautical simile: just as the ship sets its course by the stars to avoid shipwreck, so man must observe God's commandments.

God is symbolized by the lodestar which is the North Star or pole- star, the only star which remains in a fixed position. Man's re­ ward for fidelity is God's enduring "Trew" and "Liebe." The state­ ment, "Keiner ist durch ihn betrogen" is an emphatic affirmation of

God's grace and redemptive powers. —

Closely associated vrith the topic of death is the motif of the transitoriness of all earthly things, a motif which generally per­ vades German Baroque poetry. Yet, even though ship imagery plays an important role in the topic of death, it is almost nonexistent with regard to the "Verganglichkeit" motif. This is probably due to the fact that the aims of the transitoriness theme and the aims of the sea voyage allegory are incompatible. The former points to mortality, the latter to immortality, for the safe arrival at the port means eternal life. Hence the aims are mutually exclusive.

I have found only one case in which nautical imagery was used to emphasize the motif of the transitoriness of temporal things:

Harsdorffer's poem "Von der Schiffart dess menschlichen Lebens."

Wir schiffen in dera Leben/ als die im Meere schweben: das JJchifflein leicht zerdriimmert/ mit Noht und Tod umzimmert.

Die Blind das Schiff regiret/ * das Steuerruder fuhret: Der Kiel Papier und Karten macht uns dess TodeB warten.

Von Stroh dess Mastes Seule/ von Glas die Ankerspfeile. Daran der Tau gebunden/ gemacht von schwachen Lunden. 9 7

So mancher Fluten Tropffen will zwar dor Artzt verstopffen; doch muss es Sturm erleiden/ . und an dem Fels zerscheiden.

GOtt lasset Hulffe schauen/ die seinem Wort vertrauen; Er will in Schiffbruchsnothen uns vatterlich errotten.

Gebet.

0 du allerliebster Himmelslehrer/ tritt auch in das Schiff meines Hertzens/ und fiihre es von der Erden zu Dir gen Hiramel: setze dich in mein Hertz und lehre/ troste und regiere mich/ dann deine Lehre ist lieblich und heilsam. Auf dein Wort will ich meinem Beruff obliegen/ obgleich dasselbe meinen Verstand iiberhohet. Versiegle durch deinen Heiligen Geist in meinen Hertzen die Menge und ftille deiner Gnaden/ so wird mir nichts mangeln an irgend einem Gute/ Amen. 31

To understand the full import of Harsdorffer's description of a ship ostensibly doomed from the outset of the journey, one must compare it to the traditional construction of a ship as outlined in Chapter I. The three traditional woods - fir, spruce and cy­ press - of which the ship was constructed symbolized strength, permanence and salvation, for Christ's cross was constructed of the same types of wood. When Harsdorffer, therefore, portrays the ship as having a keel of paper and cardboard, a mast of straw, an anchor of glass, and ropes of dew, he is implying that the wood of sal­ vation has been replaced by transitory materials. The paper, card­ board, glass, straw and dew further symbolize the weakness of the flesh, the proclivity for man to be guided by the dictates of sin.

In fact, in many ways, Harsdorffer's ship is reminiscent of Brant's ship of fools. But despite man's depraved nature, Harsdorffer 98

indicates both in the last stanza and, more explicitly, in the

"Gebet" that man can be saved if he prays for God's inscrutable mercy. It is this overwhelming concern for redemption which domi­ nates the usage of ship imagery in the seafaring allegory of life

during the Baroque period.

f. The Function of Storms in Man’s Salvation

As mentioned, during the Baroque period the storms played a prominent role in the Bhip of life poetry. In the poems by Hars­

dorffer and Hist, the pervasive fear expressed was that the Btorms were created by God to test man's faith in His redemptive power*

Catharina von Greiffenberg concerns herself with this view in

"HErr/ warum tritteBtu so feme?" The poem itself furnishes the answer to the question raised in the title, as God is the speaker.

DaB ich meine Christen probe/ ob sie gute Schiffer sind/ so/' bey Stiirmen/ sauB=und brausen/ fahren wie bey gutem Wind/ daB der Hochmut=Segel fall/ und die Hande sich erheben: daB man in der Todes=Noht Geistlich recht beginn zu leben: Ja/ daB man verlangen trage nach des Himmels festen Land: meinsttheils aber/ daB mein* Allmacht/ Gut und Hulffe weed erkandt. ”

The argument is a straightforward affirmation that the storm and waves are, indeed, created to test the Christian’s loyalty to God • under duress* They are also an instrument of instruction to instil man with the desire to abandon pride for suppliant prayer and a yearning for heaven* However, the foremost justification for the

Btorms is to cleoonstrate God's omnipotence, bonevolence and com­ passion. The unstated implication of the message is also clear: 99 some Christians may not be "gute Schiffer." Dach once addresses himself to the fate awaiting bad sailors when he writes,

Denn sich ohn Buss1 auff Gott hin wagen Ist freche Thorheit so zu sagen, Vnd reitzet nur sein Zorn=Gericht, Denn Gott erhort die Sunder nicht*

Only he whose contrition is sincere will be saved. The unrepentant sinner will suffer God's wrath as he continues to be:

Gleich wie ein Schifflein, das den Wellen Sich immer zu Gebot mus stellen, Vnd wie die Sate, die ohn Ziel Der Siid vnd Westen ist ein Spiel (p. 365).

In addition to penitance, man must have faith in God. If man meets the criteria, then Greiffenberg is certain that everything will turn

•• out well, as she testifies in the poem "Uber die Ungluckselige

Tugend: die heisset/ durch Letter wechsel/ gut end."

Ob sich die Sonn verbirgt/ die V/inde sich erheben: ob auch die Welle koomt/ daB sie das Schiff bedeck und ganz verschlingen. will: noch gleichwol ist man keck/ wird nur des guten Ends/ des Ports/ vertrostung geben. 5*+

The persona contends that a man with faith can afford to be bold in the face of adversities. Catherine von Greiffenberg prescribes the extent to which man must concentrate all his efforts on God in order to obtain salvation, in "Auf meinen besturmeten Lebenslauff."

WJe sehr der Wirbelstrom so vieler Angst und plagen oich drahet urn und urn/ so bistu doch mein Hort/ mein mittelpunct/ in dem mein Zirkel fort und fort mein Geist halb hafften bleibt vom sturm ausgeschlagen. Hein Ziinglein stehet stat/ von Wellen’ fort getragen/ auf meinen Stern gericht. Mein Herz und Aug ist dort/ es vartet schon auf mich am Ruhe=vollen Port: dieweil muQ ich raich keck in weh vnd See hinwagen. offt will der Muht/ der Mast/ zu tausend trummern springen. 100

Bald thun die Huder=Knecht/ die sinnen/ keinen Zug. Bald kan ich keinen Wind in glaubens=Segel bringen. jetz hab ich/ meine Vhr zu richten/ keinen fug* Dann wollen mich die Wind auf andre zufahrt dringen. bring' an den Hafen mich/ mein GOfct/ es ist genugj

She regards God as her protector against all danger and the "mit- telpunct" of her very existence, for she says, "Mein Zunglein stehet stat/ von Wellen fort getragen/ auf meinen St e m gericht." Her eyes and heart, like the needle of a compass, remain firmly fixed on her North Star, God. Even though her body is buffeted by the whirlpools of fear and pain, she ventures forth "keck" in the knowledge that man must sail the sea of life before the blessings of the heavenly port are bestowed on him* The above points, then, comprise the basic tenets explaining the role of the storms in man's salvation.

Catharina von Greiffenberg is one of the most prolific Baroque poets using the ship of life allegory to emphasize the importance of faith. Her poetry revealB a naive, unwavering faith in God's mercy and compassion, and shovrs no anxiety about failing to reach the port. The following stanza exhibits her steadfast faith in salvation and could be a motto to all her poetry.

JCh stehe Felsen=fest in meinem hohen hoffen. • Ole wellen prellcn ab/ an meinem steinem Haubt. So ist dem Meere=Heer/ zu sturmen nicht erlaubt. ihm schadt es nicht/ ob schon die ungliick Strom es troffen ,g sind manche Gliicke Schiff auch neben bey geloffen;

She crystallizes the abstract concept of faith in such concrete terms as "Feleen=fest" and "steinorn Haubt," images of strength and stability that give substance to her creed. In her fervor 101

to express her convictions* the poet and persona become united and

indistinguishable in Greiffenberg's poetry. The poems do not lack poetic distance* but the convictions communicated are imbued with a highly personal quality. A pervasive attitude perceptible in many

of her poems is that the devout Christian may boldly defy the

storms of life* because God will always-intercede for man. The

daring thrust at the elements, "So ist dem Meere=Heer/ zu sturmen nicht erlaubt," serves both to dispel the world's grip on man's

soul and to affirm her personal faith in redemption. The verb

"nicht erlaubt" lends her belief a both serious and playful tone.

She is almost encouraging the Christian to relax in the face of

adversities, to chide the storms for exerting their vain efforts

on man.

The childlike faith that God demands is evident in another

sonnet, "Uber des Allwachenden Schlaf/ in dem Wind=bestiirmten

Schifflein,"

Gott schlafft/ und schlafft doch nicht. Er schlafft/ zu entdecken der Jiinger Glaubens=Schwach im Wetter=Widerstand/ wan er von ihnen zieht die Sturme=Schirmungs=Hand: der strengen Noht Gebot/ macht ihn behend erwecken. Er/ der die Wind verbindt/ hat an der Hand das Band/ kan wider ruffen bald/ die so Er ausgesandt: sie stellen sich stracks ein aus alien Felsen=Ecken. Die Welle die sich mit der hohen Wolken wolt vermahlen/ welche sich herunter neigen solt/ ist wider in den Grand/ zum Ordnungs Nort gewichen. Nun Meer und Wind wird still/ ein hohe Frag geht an: was ist/ dem Wind und Meer gehorchen/ vor ein Mann? ich antwort: eben der/ der GOtt und uns verglichen.

The Christian's test of faith, as depicted in this poem, finds its biblical antecedent in the episode described in St. Mark, which 102 became one of the favorite examples of the German Baroque poets.

The paradox in the term in Greiffenberg*s title, "Allwachenden

Schlaf,1* together with the repetition of "schlaft" in the first line captivates the reader's attention. In the rest of the first quatrain, Greiffenberg elucidates the paradox: God is pretending to sleep to test his disciples' faith in times of distress.

The final tercet reflects on the deed of subduing the unbridled elements described in the first tercet. The question posed by everyman in this poem, "was ist/ dem Wind und Meer gehorchen/ vor ein Mann?", is a direct borrowing of the biblical rendition. This question accentuates man's proper attitude, that of humble awe, in the presence of such omnipotence. The last line of the sonnet provides the answer to the question: "eben der/ der GOtt und uns verglichen." The verb "verglichen" may mean both "to reconcile" and "to compare;" hence Greiffenberg has effectively captured the two aspects of Christ. It is Christ who can be compared to both

God and man, who has brought about the reconciliation of God and man through his death. Christ's kinship to man prompts Him to bestow divine protection on man.

Many German Baroque poets re-interpreted this account and generally shared Greiffenberg's resolute faith in God's compas­ sionate response to man's pleas. They tended to emphasize man's inability to overcome the temptations of the world alone; hence the entreaties for divine aid. Even though man's faith may be weak on occasion, they reasoned the truly repentent sinner's 103 transgressions will ultimately be forgiven.

Logau interprets the biblical incident this way:

Am vierdten Sontage nach Epiphan

Sturmt Sunde/ Teuffel/ Welt/ TodJ wiBSt jhr/ daft im Schiffe Der HErr des Herm ist/ und stellt sich ob er schliefe? Was fehlt/ als daft man jhn durch wahre Buft erwecke? ,q So lieget Sturm und Streit und aller Trotz im Drecke.

A subtle variation from the gospel story both in Greiffenberg's previous sonnet and Logau's epigram should be noted: Christ only pretends to sleep. In the epigram, nothing escapes the omniscient eye, but Christ only comes to the rescue in dire distress, and only if repentance is genuine. The logical extension of this belief, as Dach intimated, is that the unrepentant sinner is damned. Where­ as Greiffenberg adheres to the biblical account in her emphasiB on faith, Logua stresses repentance, "wahre Buft." Both poets opine that man with Christ at the helm can confidently hurl hiB defiance at the storms produced by "Siinde/ Teuffel/ Welt" and "Tod." In fact, Greiffenberg suffers no trepidation in confronting imminent shipwreck, for in the midst of the turbulent sea she already en­ visions herself secured in the safe port.

In vielfaltiger Widerwertigkeit.

MEin tausendfache Noht/ dein tausend tausend Heil/ 0 iiber-guter Gott/ demutiglich anflehet. Hein' Elends=tieffe bey dem gnaden-Sandberg stehet: wiird nur ein Komlein groft von diesem mir zu theili doch ist die Allheit hie urn nichts (0 wunder) feil: der Glaub all ihre Krafft/ ja selbsten sie/ empfahet. Die Seoligkeit der Geist in diesen Segel wehet/ der in den Hafen bringt das Schiff mit Pfeiles=eil. Ich bin bereit im Port/ und mein Port ist in mir/ auch mitten in dem Meer: was darf die Flut mich scherzen? IQtf

Ich hab' an JEsu Christ das Land und Strand im Herzen, Den Schiffbruch furcht ich nicht/ geschah es auch nun schier. in meines JEsus SchofJ/ in GOtt des Vatters HKnde/ ^ und in des Geistes freud'/ ich mit dem Geist anlande.

The influence and adaptation of the patristic tradition is evident in the above poem. In that tradition the church was already re- Ifl garded as the only safe port in the midst of the sea of the world.

Now, with the new emphasis on the individual, Christ has taken over the former function of the church.

Gryphius' faith in God's mercy lacks the resolute, devout, yet childlike quality exhibited by Greiffenberg. As indicated in the sonnet, "Auf den sontag des schlummernden heifers odor den IV nach dem fest der weisen," his faith was taxed greatly by the storms afflicting him.

Auf! auff! wach auff, herr Christ! Bchau, wie die winde toben! Wie mast und ruder knackt! letzt sinckt dein schiff zu grand: letzt schaumt die wilde fluth, wo flack und segel stund; Uns fehlts an starck und rath; bald kracht die lufft von oben; Bald schluckt die teuff' uns ein. Wird dich denn iemand loben, Der ins verderben fahrt? Ist diB der feste bund, Der stets uns hoffen hieft, wenn gleich der weite schlund Der hollen rise entzwey? wo hast du hin verschoben, Was deine treu versprach? hilff, eh der kahn sich trennt! Hilff, eh das schwache bret -an jene klippen rennt! Kan denn kein zeter-schreyn dich aus dem schlaff erwecken? Auff! auff! schilt fluth und meer! So bald du auff wirBt stehn, Wird brausen, sturm und wind in einem nu vergehn. Durch dein wort muss, was uns in notlien schreckt, er- schrecken. ^ The very title of the poem already points to the persona's dismay and fear. Whereas in Greiffenberg*s sonnet the emphasis was on the

"Allvachenden Schlaf/' in Gryphius' sonnet it is on "des schlum- mernden heifers." The reality and the immediacy of the danger in which the Christian perceives himself to be is expressed in a high, almost feverish, pitch of the imploration to Christ to awaken from

His slumber and observe the destructive storm swallowing and shat­ tering the defenseless ship. Gryphius creates a verisimilitude of anguiBh and foreboding in the staccato structure of the first line, "Aufi auffi wach auff, herr ChristJ", which is punctuated with explanation marks. It is further conveyed by the short anti­ thetical sentence structure of such lines as, "letzt sinckt dein . schiff zu grund: letzt schaumt die wilde fluth, wo flack und segel stund" and "bald kracht die lufft von oben; Bald schluckt die teuff' uns ein." In fact, the first line could almost be scanned with a stress on each syllable. The entire poem can be regarded as an urgent, suppliant prayer to God for aid. The persona in Gryphius' poem has attained the state of humility prescribed in Greiffenberg's in t poem, "HErr/ warura trittestu so feme?", for his "Hochmut=Segel" haB, indeed,—been lowered.

In the second quatrain, the extreme trepidation of the speaker recedes into the background as the voice of reason attempts another approach to elicit Christ's response. The persona reasons with

Christ, "Wird dich denn iemand loben, Der ins verderben fahrt?"

And he divulges a sense of doubt as to whether God will honor the 106

covenant established between Him and man, as he queries accusingly,

"wo hast du hin verschoben, Was deine treu versprach?" This ra­

tionally presented argument intimates that he regards Christ to be

fully aware of the circumstances, but the latter simply does not

respond yet.

In the last six lines, the persona”repeats his frenzied sup­

plication. The rhetorical question, "Kan denn kein zeter-schreyn

dich aus dem schlaff erwecken?" suggests an unsuppressable appre­

hension that Christ purposely ignores his wailing. The concluding

remarks, "So bald du auff wirst stehn, Wird brausen, sturm und wind

in einem nu vergehn. Durch dein wort muss, was uns in nothen

Bchreckt, erschrecken," are an acknowledgment of Christ's ability

to deliver man. But it only points to the possibility of salvation;

it doeB not entirely dispel the fear that Christ may not feel in­

clined to redeem man.

Qryphiue' artistic presentation of the theme of the slumbering

Christ and the resultant dangerous circumstances of the ship is

far superior to that of other German Baroque poets who employ this motif. But in his agonizing wrestling with the meaning of salva­

tion, Gryphius is confined to the stereotype symbols of the nautical

allegory of life to express his views. As is the case with Baroque poets generally, the process of developing and expressing a new

idea is arrested in a traditional schema which has lost a great

deal of its vitality. To be sure, Gryphius succeeds in infusing this poem with life, but this is due to his skillful handling of 107 rhythm and metre, not to the unique force of the imagery.

In the ship of life poetry, a detailed elaboration of the

Satan versus Christ theme is almost non-existent, and whenever

Satan is mentioned, it is only done in a perfunctory manner. A poetic depiction of Satan as the incarnation of all evil probably became extinct for the same reason that,.the Odysseus myth disap­ peared and was probably due to the secularization trend of the

Baroque period. Bach's poem, "Domino, fac me scire vias tuas," is one of the few exceptions to this trend.

Sathan suchot mich zu blenden, Meinen Sinn, Verstandt und Wahn Einig vor dir abzuwenden, DaB ich fehle deiner Bahn, Mich in mich verwirre, Und gefahrlich irre, Wie ein Schiff, das weder Raht, Noch Compas, noch Ruder hat;

Hier legt Zorn mir tausend Netze Da Qewalt und Eigen=Sinn, Der ihm selber stelt Oesetze, Und wirfft deine Satzung hin; Da wil Wollust leiten Mich auff bose Seiten; Und was tuckisch auff mich halt, Ist vorauB die bose Welt.

Aller Weg geht in die Helle, Den Gefahr und Todt bewacht; Sey mein trewer SpieB=Geselle, Fiihr mich durch die finstre Nacht, LaB mich nichts bewegen Weder Sturm noch Regen, Sey mein Leit=Stern, sey mein Gang. Meiner Schritt und Tritte Zwang. w

In this poem, Dach catalogues Satan's temptations in a conventional manner. Satan has traditionally been considered as the most powerful adversary for the Christian, as he constantly confuses and distracts *+5 • him from adhering to the path of God. His supreme domain is

the world, and his weapons are its manifold temptations. Even

Christ was subject to the temptations, but He was able to conquer

them. Hence, as shown in the third stanza above, Christ became a

model for man to emulate, and is described as the North Star by

whom the Christian ought to set his bearings during life's pil­

grimage. This aspect of the patristic tradition gets carried over

and foregrounded in the Baroque period. The imploration to Christ,

"Sey mein Leit=Stern," echoes profusely throughout German Baroque

poetry.

The function of the storms in Baroque poetry waB not limited

to teaching man faith in God's redemptive power, penitance for his

transgressions, and obedience to God's commandments, but also to

purge man of his temporal depravities as a preparation for his

celestial existence. As Greiffenberg attests,

BEy sanfft gelindem wind/ ist leicht/ den Fort erlangen: doch/ wann Charybdis bellt/ und Scylla uns verdreht/ wann dort ein Wellen=Berg/ hier ein Meer Abgrund steht/ und man kommt doch zu land/ dann kan man recht Siegprangen. Nach longer Seefart/ hat das goldne fell entfangen der dapfer Jason. PreiB aus ochweifJ und fleiB aufgeht. Dann/ keine frucht/ ohn Zucht/ die Tugend nie entf&ht. Dann heist es Sieg/ wann man die Welt-gefahr urogangen. Man~muI5 aus Illium/ wann soil die Tyber kronen/ auf kohl=und flammen gehn. Creutz ist des Gluckes Thor. Der Vngliicks Schatten kan/ ein-Wunderbild verschonen. Man schwingt/ gebogen/ sich viel herrlicher empor. Dir Kron/ kommt aus dem Feur/ dann auf des Kpnigs Haar. So wird Ehren=Stern aus Vngliick und gefahr.

Greiffenberg regards suffering as a necessary prerequisite to

salvation. Reaching the port is easy when the winds are favorable,

and by implication, the seas are calm; but victory is meritorious 109 only if achieved through critical confrontations. "Creutz ist des

Gluckes Thor." Man must be purified through suffering misfortune before he can be spiritually reborn, just as Christ had to bear the cross and shed His blood to absolve mankind of sin. As such, the storms came inadvertently to symbolize spiritual baptism which en­ ables man to become worthy to wear "DieJCron" and the "Ehren^Stern" of eternity.

Dach, too, believes the true Christian must be prepared to submit himself to the will of God and patiently endure adversities to merit eternal life.

Ein Kampffer ist durch Streit bewehrt, Ein Schiff=Patron durch Sturm und Wellen, Der bald bift an die Wolcken fahrt, Bald gar biB auff den Grund der Hellen. Der Glaube, wo er recht sol seyn, MuG durch Gedult sich offenbahren, MuG mawren=fest sich in der Fein Mit Zuversicht auff Gott verwahren, Kein Weichling taug zum Christenthum, Hie dienet zu, der vnverdrossen In Ungluck ist, sucht Rhue vnd Hhum In Keiff, in Hagel, Schnee vnd Schlossen.

In the poem, "Jesus ist ihre Zuversicht," Angelus Silesius depicts the soul's passive, courageous accepting of the storms in her complete trust in salvation.

Der Herr ist meinor Augen Trost, Mehr als die So'nn am Himmel, Mein Heil, wenn sich der Feind"erbost Und alle sein Getummel. Wenn ich nur ihn erblick, mein Licht, So furcht ich mich schon nicht.

Ich schiff ohn Zagen auf dem Meer In allem Ungewitter. Fliegt gleich mein Schifflein hin und her 110

Vom Nordwind, dem Zerrutter, Pahr ich doch fort und aeh ihn an, Den Leitstern, was ich kann.

Ich lasse Donner, Hagol, Blitz Und alles auf mich sturmen, Schau nur nach meinea Sternes Sitz An seines Himmels Turmen. Ich fahr voll Hoffnung nach dem Port, Den Jesus zeucht mich fort.

Ich werde zwar oft schwach und imide Und bin sehr abgeschlagen, Weil aber er mich an sich zieht So acht ich keine Plagen. Mein Schifflein wird noch wohl bestehn Und in den Port eingehn.

Ich bin getrost, er wird auch nicht Zur letzten Zeit mich lassen, Er wird sein lieblichs Angesicht Mir zeigen, mich umfassen. Ich bin getrost und fahne fort Mit Jesu in den Port.

Both Angelus Silesius and Greiffenberg express an unshaken, naive confidence that Christ will act benevolently and compassionately to help the soul weather all afflictions.

A poem which presents a unique variation of the ship allegory is Greiffenberg's sonnet, "Auf meinen Vorsatz/ die Heilige Schrift zu Lesen," which equates the reading of the Bible to a sea voyage.

AVf deinem Namen will/ 0 HErr/ ich mich begeben hin in_das tieffe Meer GOtt=eingegebner Schrifft/ wo man mit Geistes=Mast und GlaubenasSegeln schifft da uns der HirameIs=Port vor Augen pflegt zuschweben. Die Augen der Vernunfft/ wahn man da auf will heben Coralls und Perlen=Schatz/ wann man hinab vertiefft/ rauB man verbinden/ daB Vnglaubens Salz nicht trifft: daB Christus Blut=Corall im Hertzen moge leben/ 0 Geist/ mein Steuermann! KErr Christ/ mein Nordesstern! lenk und erleucht mich stats/ daB sich mein ZUnglein wende/ mit deinem Blut geschmiert/ nach dir/ ob ich noch fern/ und an dem Hafen bald der Seeligkeit anlande. Ill

In diesem Domant Meer/ das deinen Thron umgibt/ ergez* ich mich/ bi(5 dir/ dich mir zu weisen/ liebt.

This unusual interpretation was, to a great extent, engendered by % the Lutheran emphasis on reading the Bible. Greiffenberg adapted the following aspects of the nautical stereotype to this concept: the Bible is symbolized by the sea in which the Christian sails and is directed by the "Geistes=Mast" and the "Glaubens=Segeln."

The statement "da uns der Himmels=Port vor Augen pflegt zuschweben" implies that man must read the Bible, the source of revelation of

God's will, to reach the final port. Whereas the persona in

Gryphius' poem, "Auf den sontag des schlummernden heifers oder den

IV nach dem fest der weisen," had attempted, in part, to elicit

God's aid by reasoning with Him, the speaker in Greiffenberg*s sonnet avers that reason must be blindfolded. Faith brings to light the infinite treasures inherent in the Bible, the most valu­ able of which is "Christus Blut=Corall," the symbol of redemption.

This attitude towards reason and faith permeates the Baroque period and characterizes the growing pains accompanying the shedding of medieval ideas and simultaneously searching for a new set of values to cope with a changing reality. In short, it is indicative of the tension existing between religion and secularization.

The sestet comprises a humble ■prayer in which the persona beseeches the Holy Ghost, her helmsman, and Christ, her North Star, to navigate her ship and to provide the light and direction for its successful landing in the port of blessedness. Unlike the persona in Gryphius' poem who blamed Christ for prolonging his 112 anguish, Greiffenberg*s speaker is oblivious to suffering because she enjoys and esteems the previous knowledge derived from the f,Demant Meer," the Bible, until God desires to manifest the full 50 extent of His infinite love for mankind.

Among the German Baroque poets, Angelus Silesius and Greiffen­ berg are perhaps the most consistently.jjtaunch, unquestioning be­ lievers in God's benevolent love for man. Over and over again, they affirm their faith by extolling God thus: "Er wird sein lieb- 51 lichB Angesicht Mir zeigen, mich umfassen" "wer solt deiner 52 Giitigkeit doch nit ganzlich sich ergeben," and "Wir sind seiner 55 Gute Ziel." Other poets also voice their faith and elation at the expectation of union with God. Opitz delineates this delight in the following poem.

als wie ein Schiffer thut Der weit gesegelt ist durch Klippen/ Wind vnd Hu t / Steigt oben auff den Mast/ vnd schicket sein Gesichte Mit sehnlicher Begier nach etwann einera Liechte Das vmb die Berge glanzt; erblickt er dann das Land So ruffet er: ich seh'/ ich sehe schon den Strand/ StreichtSegel/ anckert ein/ wir haben vberwunden. 0 wol/ Susanna/ dir; du hast das Vfer funden Darnach ein Christ sich sehnt/ vnd siehest auff das Meer DeBS Lebens da wir sind von deinem Himmel her. ^

Opitz compares the joy experienced by the Christian to a sailor, who after yearning with "sehnlicher Begier" to reach the port,. exclaims, "ich seh'/ ich> sehe schon den Strand/ Streich Segel/ anckert ein/ wir haben vberwunden." Faith, hope, and patience that

God will honor His covenant established with man, these are the virtues the Christian must possess in encountering the sea of life voyage to earn his redemption. At the end of the Baroque period, 113 these tenets of the ship allegory of life are as significant as they were at the beginning, for during this period no essential changes in the didactic intent and theological content of the poems can be detected. The poems analyzed in this chapter can be charac­ terized by an absorbing and redefining of a patristic tradition from both a Lutheran and, to a lesser extent, humanistic point of view. The new theological nuances were superimposed on an existing tradition of nautical schema. Gunther, generally considered the last of the Baroque poets, still writes:

Glaube und Hoffnung

Mein Vertrauen grundet sich Auf zwey Pfeiler, die nicht wancken; Glaub und Hofnung fiihren mich Durch die engen Lebensschrancken An das Ziel, wo Kampf und Streit Lorbeerkranze prophezeit.

Niemahls wird ein Heldenmuth In der Kummersee ersaufen Noa Hasten trozt die Fluth, Bis die WaOor sich verlaufen. Wer den Hofnungsancker hat, Findet bald ein Ararat. 55

Gunther espouses the Lutheran creed - God's grace is obtained by faith alone-- and utilizes the anchor to symbolize the bond exis- * ting between God and man already explicit in Harsdorffer's and

Rist's poems. g. Conclusion

In the introductory chapter, I capsulized Gombrich*s and

Arnheim's complementary theories of perception asserting that man has no adequate means of capturing reality except through stereo­ types. Leech applied this theory by pointing to the prefabricated linguistic repertoire to which man tends to restrict himself in verbal and literary communication. All three writers intimated that the stereotype, the schema, undergoes modification only when it lacks the linguistic, metaphoric scope and mobility for the artist or poet to express his views satisfactorily. And Curtius, in Europaische Literatur, investigated the unity of the tradition of Western culture in space and time in order to demonstrate the spell that tradition evinces on man. Gombrich and Curtius agreed on the role of heritage,*• - • but Gombrich added that without tradition there is no innovation. He claimed that the artist can not express his view on reality except through conventions, for the convention itself is an expression of reality. On^y a genius can transcend convention, at which time the innovation becomes a new tradition.

In outlining the basic tenets of the ship allegory as estab­ lished in the classical and patriBtic traditions, and demonstra­ ting how this nautical schema manifested itself in German Baroque poetry, I attempted to prove the spell of tradition was not broken in that era. In the ship of life section of this chapter I pur- ' posely UBed SdKfeffler's epigram, "Die geistliche Schiffahrt" which is analogous to Logau's epigram, "Die Welt," in the ship of the 115

church section of this chapter to highlight the lack of major dif­

ferences in the allegories, with the exception of a shift in"

emphasis from the ship of the church to the ship of the soul meta­ phor. The full import of the ship of the soul is derived from a knowledge of the schema established in the patristic ship of the

church, a heritage out of which the former evolved.

One of the reasons why critics, such as Newald, are justified in complaining that the nautical imagery of the Baroque period had lost its vitality is that Western culture experienced a long history of the church and the religious symbols it nourished. Despite the

inception of the new emphasis on "sola fides" and the dignity of the individual, no artistic innovation was perceptible; rather, a new nuance was superimposed on an old nautical schema. The goal and fate of the ship of the church and the ship of the soul was identical; in fact, the fate of the soul was already a "Mitlaufer" of the fate of the church in the patristic tradition. It is, there­

fore, not surprising that the.nautical stereotype, as utilized in the patristic tradition, seemed to be an appropriate vehicle for representing the realities of life during the Baroque period.

Baroque poets reverted to using the prefabricated formulas which

Leech observed man has the propensity for relying on in communica­ ting his opinions. Gryphius groped for an innovation in the lin­ guistic repertoire to capture the concerns and fears engendered by the physical and ideological upheaval of the Thirty Years' War.

He struggled valiently to transcend the trite schema and symbols, 116 and he did succeed best in portraying the internal and external con­

flicts of man searching for salvation, but he remained transfixed in the process of groping without ultimately achieving his poetic aim. However, Baroque poets did cultivate new twists and nuances in poetry to correspond with relevant realities of life. The fact that their concerns primarily still focused on the religious context of concerns affirms Gombrich*s theory: until one's perception of life changes, the stereotype will not alter. FOOTNOTES

Harold J. Grimm, The Reformation Era, 1500-1650 (New York: The Macmillan Company, 19&7)» £7 535*

2 Hans Neumann, "Die Schiffsalegorie im Ezzolied," in Nachrichten der Akadomie der Wissenschaften in Gottingen. Phi- lologisch-Historische Klasse (Gottingen: Vandenhoeck 8c Rup- recht, I960), PP» 3-^«

^ Friedrich von Logau, Salomons von Golaw Deutscher Sinn- Getichte drey tausend... (Breslaw: In Verlegung Caspar Kloss- manns/ gedruckt in der Baumannischen Druckerey durch Gottfried Grundern, 165*0, No. 88 in the fourth hundred of the epigram. L Neumann, op. cit.

Martin Opitz, "Lobgesang Jesu Christi,*1 in Gesammelte Werke, Band I. Die Werke von l6l4 bis 1621, ed. George Schulz- Behrend (Stuttgart: Hierseman, 19557, p; 290•

6 Ibid., p. 330.

^ Simon Dach, Simon Dachs Gedichte, ed. Walther Ziesemer (Halle: Niemeyer, 1936-35)t vols. vol. 1, p. 313* 8 Chriatliches Gesangbuch fur die offentliche und hausliche Gottesverehrung, Zum Gebrauche der Evangelischen Gemeinden im Toma-Baranya-Sumegher Seniorat (Budapest: Druck und Verlag von Kolom. Rozsa und Frau), . p. 91.

^ Georg Philipp Harsdorffer, Hertzbewegliche Sonntagsan- dachten; das ist, Bild- Lieder- und Bet-Buchlein. auB den Spruchen der H. Schrifft, nach den Evan geli- und Feettexten verfasst... (Nurnberg: Wolffgang Endter, 1649-52)V pp. 18-19.

117 118

Angelus Sileaius, Saratliche Poetische Werke, ed. Hans Ludwig Held (Miinchen: Carl Hanser, 19*49ff), 3 vois. vol^-3, p. 50.

*1*1 *v Georg Philipp Harsdorffer, op. cit., pp. 66-67*

12 Ibid., p. 265f*

^ Johannes Rist, Neiier teiitBcher Parnass/ auff welchem be- findlich Ehr1 und Lehr, Schertz und Schmertz, Leid- und Freuden- Gewachse/ welches zu unterBchiedlichen Zeiten gepflantzet/ nun- aber Allen7“der teuschen Helden-Sprache und deroselben edlen Dichtkunst vernimfftigen Liebhaberen/ zu sonderbarem Gefallen zu Hauffe gesamlet und in die offenbahre Welt ausgestreuet/ von Johann Histen (Luneburg: gedrukt und verlegt durch Johann und Heinrich/ denen Sternen/ Gebrudern, 1652), pp. 18-19.

lif Ibid., p. 17*

^ Georg Philipp Harsdorffer, op. cit., p. 245ff.

^ Johannes Rist, Neuer himlischer Lieder sonderbahres Buch... (Luneburg: J. H. Sternen, 1641), p p . 292-195 (sici).

^ Johannes Rist, Frommer und gottseliger Christen alltag- liche Haussmusik/ oder musikalische Andachten/ bestehend in manch- erlei.. .auf gahr netie/ von den fiirtreflichem und weitberuhmten Musico/ Herren Johann Schopen/ wol- und anmuhtig-gesetzet und hervor gegeben von Johann RiBt (Luneburg: Johann und Heinrich Stern, 16f& ) 1 pp. 136-139.

18 Ibid., pp. 136-139.

^ Johannes Rist, Sabbahtische seelenlust/ dass ist; Lehr- trost-vernahnung-und warnungsreiche lieder uber alle sontagliche Evangelien deft gantzen .jahres/ welche/ so wol auf bekante/ und in reinen evangelischen kirchen gebrauchliche ales auch gantz neue7 ~ voa herren Thoma Sellio/ bei der hochloblichen statt Hamburg be- stalten cantore/ wolgesetzete melodeien konnen gesungen und ge- spielet werden/ Gott zu ehren und chriBtlichen hertzen zu nutz- licher erbauung abgef asset und herauB gegeben von Johann Rist (Luneburg: gedruckt und verlegt durch die Sternen, 1&51)» PP* 64-69. *“ PO Simon Dach, oj). cit., vol. 3* P- 50. _

21 Ibid., p. 50.

22 cf., p. 68f.

2^ Simon Dach, ojj. cit., vol. 4, p. 368.

2** Ibid., vol. 3, p. 5^-

2^ Christian Hof man von Hofmannswaldau, Gedichte, od. Helmut Heissenbiittel (Franckfurt: Fischer, 1968), p. 112.

• Simon Dach, oja. cit., vol. *+, pp. 251-252.

2^ Sigmund von Birken, Floridans Lieb- und Lob-Andenken seiner Seelig-entseelten Margaris ira Pegnitz-Qefilde bey frolicher~Fru- lingszeit, traurig angestimmt (Nuremberg, 1670), p. 62. p8 Angelus Silesius, op. cit., vol. 2, pp. 62.

2^ Andreas Gryphiue, Werke, ed. Hermann Palm (Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche BucHgesellschaft, 1961), k. vols. vol. 3t pp. 125-126.

Simon Dach, o£. cit., vol. 2, p. 1^1.

^ Georg Philipp Harsdorffer, op. cit., p. 2*t5ff.

^2 Catharina von Greiffenberg, Geistliche Sonette, Lieder und Gedichte (1662. rpt. Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesell- schaft, 1967)1 P- 326.

^ Simon Dach, o£. cit., vol. 3» PP- 365-36?.

^ Catharina von Greiffenberg, op. cit., p. 50. 120

57 Ibid,, p. 122.

The biblical account to which Greiffenberg alludes in the sonnet is found in Mark 4, 36-*fl and reads:

And when they had sent away the multitude, they took him even as he was in the ship. And there arose a great storm of wind, and the waves beat into the ship, so that it was now full. And he was in the hinder part of the ship, asleep on a pillow; and they awake him, and say unto him, Master, carest thou notThat we perish? And he arose, and rebuked the wind, and said unto the sea, Peace, be still. And the wind ceased, and there was a great calm. And he said unto them, Why are ye so fear­ ful? how is it that ye have no faith? And they feared exceedingly, and said one to another, What manner of man is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?

29 Friedrich Logau, Deutscher Sinn-Getichte drey tausend, No. 16 in the ninth hundred of the epigrams.

La Catharina von Greiffenberg, ojj. cit., p. 71*

in Cf., p. 25 of this dissertation.

42 Andreas Gryphius, 0£. cit., vol. 5, pp. 30-31.

**2 Cf., p. 100 of this dissertation. 44 Simon Dach, o£. cit., vol. 2, pp. 172-173*

^ Cf., p. 21.

^ Catharina von Greiffenberg, 0£. cit., p. 8k.

( Simon Dach, op. cit., vol. 3» PP* k6-k7. 48 Angelus Silesius, oj>. cit. vol. 2, pp. 317-318. ha ^ Catharina von Greiffenberg, 0£. cit., p. 2o.

*50 ^ The origin of the "Demant Meer" can be found in Revelations IV, 6 : "And before the throne there was a sea of glass like unto 121 crystal."

^ Angelus Silesius, op. cit., vol. 2, pp. 317-518.

Catharina von Greiffenberg, o£. cit., pp. 330-531*

53 Ibid., pp. 330-331* eL ^ Martin Opitz, Martini Opiti.i Weltliche poemata. zum viertenmal vermehret vnd vbersehen herraus gegeben TPranckfurt am Mayn: bey T. M. Gotzen, l644), p. 144.

^ Johann Christian Gunther, Johann Christian Gunthers Samt- liche Werke, ed. Wilhelm Kramer (Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft, 196*0 * 6 . vols. vol. 1 , p. 39* CHAPTER IV: THE SHIP OP LOVE

In the first chapter, I referred to I. A. Richards' distinc­ tion between the tenor (subject) and vehicle (image) of a metaphor, and I remarked that in certain caseB the same image may be utilized to illuminate different subject matters. This, I hypothesized, was applicable to nautical imagery. There exists a schematized pattern of seafaring in which all parts have a definite, standardized re­ lationship to each other, and form an independent, unified whole, regardless of the subject matter. Any topic which can be perceived as analogous to this existing schema may become a suitable subject for this vehicle; as for example, the church, life, love, poetry, and so forth. Even though the pattern of nautical imagery exists independent of the subject matter, it is the subject which ultimately imbues the schema and its various parts with meaning. For instance, if the tenor of the metaphor is the church, the the ship is the congregation; if it is life, the ship is the individual, body and soul; and if it is love, then the ship is the lover. But whether * the tenor is the church, life or love, the rocks within the schema always signify danger, though the specific danger will vary in symbolic value from subject to subject. 123

The versatility of the seafaring schema is only limited by the ingenuity of the poet in finding analogous situations, and

"love" is such a situation. As Windfuhr points out, the German

Baroque poets did not invent the comparison of love to a sea voy­ age, but they were fond of using it; next to life, it was the most popular topic in the literature of thi'srera described in nautical imagery. The topic of love may be subdivided into three major units: the Petrarchan, the marriage, and the erotic love systems.

Each complex had its own standardised set of values which determined which aspect of the schema was foregrounded. i a. The Petrarchan Love System

The usage of ship imagery in the Petrarchan love poetry re­ flects its standardized conventions of fixed, recurring patterns, because certain gestures, poses and images recur and develop into a typical, stylized relationship between the lover and his lady. ^

The ship symbolizes the lover who is buffeted by the raging sea of antithetical emotions. The sea of love is depicted as choppy, in which a highly skilled captain - reason - is required to avert imminent shipwreck. But because the beloved or Venus is the cap- tain, the ship can not compete with.the gales, that is, reason can not cope with the overpowering emotions. The first poem in German

Baroque literature which illustrates this pattern is the following translation by Opitz of a sonnet by Petrarch: 12k

AufJ dem Italienischen Petrarcha

ISt Liebe lauter nichts/ wie dafl sie r.ich entzundet? 1st sie dann gleichwol was/ wem ist jhr thun bewust? 1st sie auch recht vnd gut/ wie bringt sie bose Lust? 1st sie nicht gut/ wie dafl man Freudt aufl jhr empfindet? Lieb ich gar williglich/ wie dall ich Schmertzen trage? Mull ich es thun/ was holffts/ dafl ich solch trawren fiihr? Thue ichs nicht gerc/ wer ists/ der es befihlet mir? Thue ich es gern/ warunb/ dafl ich mich dann beklage? Ich wancke/ wie das Gras/ so von den kiihlen Winden Umb Vesperzeit bald hin geneiget wirdt/ bald her. Ich walle wie ein Schiff/ dafl in dem wilden Meer Von Wellen umbgejagt nicht kan zu rande finden. Ich weifl nicht was ich will/ ich will nicht was ich weifl/ Im Sommer ist mir kalt/ im Winter ist mir heifl. 2

The octet comprises a series of eight questions in which the poet

attempts to define the ethical quality of love and to discern its

effect on man's will: Is man endowed with free will or is he

enthralled by the power of love? The first quatrain establishes

that the poet, ignited by love, is perturbed by his inconsisten,

irrational, emotional-feelings, a fact which indicates that he

expects a certain amount of logical, consistent behavior of him­

self. In his search for an answer to his emotional dilemma, he

indirectly defines the essence of love as an inherent self-contra­

diction which reason is unable to translate into a coherent, ra­

tional system. In short, love is a paradox. It is both goo'd and base; it entails both pain and pleasure. The argumentation of’ the octet is the voice of reason trying to reestablish a consistent order in the emotional turmoil of feelings, and the very fact

that each question remains unanswered indicates that there is no satisfactory solution. The two similes in the sestet show that the voice of reason is impotent, for the persona compares himself to grass swayed about by the winds and to a ship at the mercy of a storm-ridden sea, unable to reach port. The ship connotes the poet, and the sea and waves symbolize the irrational, emotional forces of love. The chiastic sentence structure, "Ich weid^nicht was ich will/ Ich will nicht was ich weill/," and the parallel construction, "Im Sommer ist mir kalt/ Im Winter ist mir heiB," in which the poet inverts the expected seasonal temperatures, further emphasizes his unsettled mental and physical state. Since the shore in the schema of nau­ tical imagery represents the opposite of the sea, it follows that the shore, the lover's elusive goal, symbolizes a state in which man is in control of his emotions and logic rules.

As this sonnet indicates, in the Petrarchan love system the predicament of the lover is usually painted in broad, explicit pictures which reveal his antithetical condition: he wavers be­ tween life and death, joy and sorrow, heat and frost. He is beset by incurable diseases and complains to the stars about his lonely lot. The stars, in turn, remind him of his beautiful sweetheart, whose hands*, lips, eyes, cheecks, breasts, etc., surpass even the stars in their beauty. The winds and storms connote the lover's sighs, the rocks and sandbanks betoken his fears and thwarted hopes, and the rain represents his tears.

Hofmannswaldau's aria, "Ihr bleichen buhler schwartzer zeit," typifies this stereotyped depiction of the lover's plight. 126

Ihr bleichen buhler schwartzer zeit/ Die ihr die nachte zieret/ Und flammen voller lieblichkeit Durch triibe wolcken fuhret/ Werfft einen strahl Von eurem eaal/ Und Bchaut/ ob meine schmertzen Sich gleichen euren kertzen. ^

In the first stanza, the persona compares his dilemma to that of

the stars which in the Petrarchan love system symbolize any and all

former lovers who were transformed into stars because their love It remained unrequited on earth. Their position corresponds to that

of the deceased mortals in the funeral poemB discussed in the pre­

vious chapter. Vhen these lovers were placed into the heavens as

a reward for their devotion, they transcended their earthly tribu­

lations and received their just reward. Yet, the element of having

suffered from unrequited love creates a natural empathy between

the stars and the lover, for the latter can measure the extent of

his predicament by comparing it to the situation of the stars. In

stanzas two to five, the persona concludes that his agony surpasses

that of the former lovers, and in stanza six he captures his dilemma

in a nautical metaphor.

Ich bin ein schiff der liebeB=see/ Das wind und wetter plaget/ Dem ungliick/ hoffnung/ furcht und weh/ Durch mast und segel jagot. Hier zeigt sich Kein port fur raich/ Dieweil ich itzt muss meiden Den leitstem meiner freuden (Neukirch, I, pp. 581-38*0 .

As expected, the lover is a ship sailing on the sea of love, but

Hofmannswaldau uses two effective verbs, "plaget'* and "jaget," to 12? describe the exteat to which the woer is tossed about by the storms of misfortune, thwarted hope, fear and pain to make the metaphor dynamic* The Petrarchan system demands that the port be unattain­ able, that the lover can not embrace "Den leitstem ... seiner freuden." The North Star in this system is normally part of the lady's body, such as the eyes, and since the beloved is merciless, a course that is set by her eyes will ultimately lead the lover's ship astray. Despite the lady's pitiless cruelty, the lover con­ tinuously wooes her - languishingly and painfully. 4 In "Klage" Hofmannswaldau adds another dimension to the lover's plight.

Ich bin ein einsam schiff/ das wind und wellen treibt/ So bey dem ruder auch den ancker hat verloren/ Ich finde keinen port/ da mein gelucke bleibt/ Und schlusse/ das b man nich zura leiden hat gebohren (Neukirch, II, p. 9)-

The description "einsam schiff" indicates that the Petrarchan lover is essentially a lonely being unable to share his feelings with anyone, including his beloved. Hofmannswaldau depicts his ship devoid of rudder and anchor, the means of giving direction and security to his endeavors. Unable to find a port, the lover con­ cludes that he was born to suffer.

It is ironic that the favorite poetic form of a system which is characterized by a melodramatic display of suffering, in which the male-female relationship provides for no fulfillment, and in which the innerjpeace of man is depicted as destroyed is the sonnet, perhaps the most structured and controlled poetic form. Because 128

the Petrarchan love system is so affected and schematized, it is

• prone to ridicule.

I have pointed out that the strife between reason and emotions

is one of the major tenets of the system. This struggle is explored

satirically in Dach's poem, "Illicitum frustra Venus improba vexat

amorem." This dichotomy between form and content effectively mir­

rors the antithetical nature of the lover's predicament. But the

very fact that the emotionally torn lover can describe his turmoil

in such controlled language intimates that his conflict is more

theoretical than real.

MEin Vrtheil widerrath es mir Vnd sagt: Ich sol mich von dir wenden; * Ich aber habe die Begier, Hein Lieb, noch nicht in meinen Handen, Ich streit in grosser Borg vnd Pein Vnd kan doch nicht jhr Heister seyn.

Mein zartes Alter weifi noch nicht Von ihren Krafften ob=zusiegen, Ich muB durch jhre strenge Pflicht Im ersten Ansatz vnter liegen; Vie kluglich mein Verstand auch lehrt, Bo wird er doch nicht angehort.

Ich kenne zwar die Tugendt wol, Was hilfft es mir? Ich mufi sie haBsen; Ich sehe, was ich meiden sol, Vnd kan es doch nicht vnterlassen; Zum Bosen lieb' ich schnelle Fahrt, Zum Gufen trag' ich Schnecken=arth.

Recht wie ein Schiff in vollem Lauff Die Syrten zwar vor Augen siehet, Vnd helt doch seine FLucht nicht auff, Wie hefftig es sich auch bemuhet: Der vngezahmten Winde Streit Gonnt hie der Kunst nicht Krafft, nicht Zeit;

So seh' ich meinen Vntergang Mir auch zwar stets vor Augen schweben, 1 129

Vnd kan mlch doch durch keinen Zwang Der sorglichen Gefahr entheben: Das geile Wol=thun fuhrt mich hin Wo ich mir selbst nicht ahnlich bin;

Das, wo ich eben das mull aeyn, Wsb vormals Ithacus Geferdtcn, Die sich in Blihren, Wolff vnd Schwein* Auff Circe Zauberey verkehrten. Wer unter den Begierden ist, ^ „ Darff keiner Circe Kunst vnd List.

The entire poem consists of juxtaposed theses and antitheses to portray the conflict between reason and passion, as indicated in the first stanza, "MEin Vrtheil widerrath es mir ... Ich aber habe die Begier, Mein Lieb, noch nicht in meinen Handen." The satiric mood creeps into the poem when one becomes aware of the double, possibly triple, meaning of these lines and it is furthered when

Dach uses the adjective "zart" to denote his immaturity and the impersonal voice, "Mein zartes Alter," in referring to himself.

In the third stanza, the lover argues that despite his knowledge of the meaning of virtue, he is inevitably attracted to vile things, whereas he moves toward virtuous things with snail's speed. The term "Bchnecken-arth" lends a quality of humor to the situation.

The seductive allurement of lust parallels that of the world ex­ amined in the previous chapter, where the devout Christian knew he should avoid worldly pleasures, yet could not free himself from their influence. Dach, of course, does not regard love to be the cause for emotional turmoil, but the inability of youth to cope with these feelings. In a patronizing tone, he implies that such an absurd infatuation is primarily a phenomenon of youth. 130

Stanzas four and five couch the lover's dilemma in a nautical simile: just as the ship is driven by destructive winds, so the wooer is at the mercy of his unbridled passions which drive him along perilous paths. Dach describes the emotions as "Das geile

Wol=thun" connoting the lover's sexual motives. And in the last stanza the lover's desires are comparedjto Odysseus' companions who were turned into animals, "Bahren, Wolff vnd Schwein," by

Circe, the sorceress. Dach's moral dictum is: lust transforms a human being into an animal and robs him of his reason. However, he also contends that ultimately judgment and good sense will pre­ vail with the advent of maturity. By exposing the Petrarchan love system as a folly of youth and by imputing it with sexual, animal­ istic qualities, Dach destroys the system.

Attributing base desires to youth, passions which will subside once the mature voice of reason gains control, is a common theme in the love poetry of the Baroque period. Opitz, for example, concludes his section of love poems in Teutsche Poemata with a poem entitled "Beschluss Elegie." This poem is a rejection of love poems in favor of more mature subjects. In the first two verses

Opitz emphatically announces:

Das blinde liebes werck/ die susse Gifft der Sinnen/ Und rechte Zauberey hat letzlich hier ein end/ (Opitz, p. 103).

Opitz uses rhetorical repetition in variation to emphasize the kind of power the Olympian gods exert in love poetry. He regards it analogous to Circe's "Zauberey." Opitz denounces the poetic convention which ennobles Greek gods to symbolize exemplary love.

He exposes them to be debauchers: Venus is a pandress; her son a fool; Zeus a whorechaser; Bacchus a drunkard, etc. He claims that whatever the poet has written under Venus' influence must be at­ tributed merely to the weakness and folly of youth. With the ad­ vent of maturity, the poet will discern the reprehensible nature of Venus and her cohorts. From a rational perspective the type of love Venus represents and inspires is in reality a ship of pain and a treacherous sea in which virtue drowns. Youth is attracted by external beauty - the lips of coral, the body of alabaster, the white breasts, etc. but the mature mind perceives its transi­ tory quality. Virtue alone is immortal, Opitz avers.

To be sure, one suspects that this repudiation is not quite sincere. Despite the emphatic tone, Opitz still uses the per­ functory phraseology of the very poems he rejects. Paradoxically, it seems as if old age recollects its youthful escapades with a certain amount of gratification, even though in retrospect the acts committed by the young are foolish in light of the fact that

« the infatuation disappears with the fading of external beauty. b. Marriage Poems

In the l£zk edition of the Teutsche Poemata, Opitz published the following translation of a wedding poem by Daniel Heinsius.

Die Schiffer so uffs Meer die schwebendt Heuser bawen/ Vnd jhrerfTdinen Leib den blossen Winden trawen/ Sein kommen an das Land von aller Noth befreyt/ So fahren sie zu Port in Lust und Froligkeit. 132

Dass/ wo wir sind/ eh vir zusammen uns gesellen/ Ist eine wiiste See: Die sorgen/ sind die Wellen/ Die Lieb/ ist vnser V.'ind/ die Klippen und die Stein/- Ist da wir allermeist darauff beflissen sein/ Die Klippen sein gestellt in unsers Lebens mitten/ Da wirdt man allerseits von wilden Meer bestritten/ Dann kompt der Westwind an gar lieblich sanfft und still/ Der kan uns in verderb einfuhren/ wie er will. Die Sternen/ die wir sehn/ das sind der Augen Strahlen/ Die uns von rechtem lauff verfuhren zu vielen mahlen/ Dann treugt uns der Compas/ dann treuget uns die Lufft/ Dass wir in grosse Noth gerathen unvorhofft. Das Ruder ist Verstandt/ der Ancker/ Witz der Jugendt/ Die Segel/ Hoffligkeit/ das Schifferseil/ die Tugendt/ Dann der geringste theil bringt mit gluckhafter Hand Sein unbewegtes Schiff ohn anstoss an das Land. Und unser Breutigam kompt von des Schiffes Sande/ Durch Wellen/ Wind/ und Stein/ und durch die See zu Lande/ Zu Lande kompt er an/ befreyt von aller Noth/ Von Schiffbruch und Gefahr/ von FUrchto fiir dem Todt. Das ist der letzte Wunsch: Ihr habt das Land nun innen/ Da euch der Ostwind nicht mehr wirdt verwerffen kiinnen. Herr Breutgam werfft auss den Ancker in das Tieff/ Und fiir der Ungesttim versichert ewer Schiff/ Wir sind noch in dem Meer/ darauff wir folgen sollen/ Wo uns der wilde Wind und Wellen haben wollon/ Adieu/ und wann jhr dann in Lust und freuden steht/ Gedenckt auch wie es uns mit unsern Schiffen geht (Opitz, pp. 60-6l)•

The first four lines of the poem function as a prologue in which

Heinsius makes a universal statement about man's condition: man is depicted as a sailor navigating the perilous sea on a flimsy abode - "schwebendt Houser" - and rejoicing upon reaching the safe port. In the body of the poem this truism is applied to the states of bachelorhood and marriage which are compared and constrated entirely in nautical imagery. This adaptation of the seafaring schema to marriage and bachelorhood is both innovative and in­ genious, delighting the reader who is familiar with the traditional interpretations of the schema by the wealth of new meanings with which the traditional parts of the pattern are imbued. Heinsius

depicts bachelorhood as a disorderly sea and contrasts it to mar­ riage as a cozy haven. In this new adaptation, the ship represents the bachelor, the vicissitudes of the sea symbolize the tribulations of bachelorhood, and the desired port is matrimony - connubial consummation. If the bachelor worships transitory beauty, ho will not reach the port. In order to underscore the preferability of the married state, Heinsius elaborates on the undesirability of the sea of bachelorhood: the sea is "wust;" the waves symbolize worries; the rocks, cliffs, stones and westwind representing the unpredictability and pains inflicted by fickle love. The stars, representing the paramour's eyes by which the bachelor sets his course, the compaBS and even the air conspire to lead him astray.

To avert imminent shipwreck, the sailor must rely on the helm, anchor, sails and ropes of his ship which symbolize judgment, wit, politeness (respect for the lady'B virtue), and virtue. Heinsius ascribes the ability to surmount all obstacles to the groom because he relies on reason, valuing virtue above beauty. Now that the groom has reached port safely - is married -, Heinsius advises him to drop his anchor and to secure his ship against buffeting by the deceptive sea. The "Ancker" is imbued with phallic overtones for the clause "werfft auss den Ancker in das Tieff" clearly connotes conjugal fulfillment. The last four lines of the poem function as an epilogue in-which the final moral is pronounced. Heinsius de­ picts bachelors as an unhappy lot still confined to the 1 3 * vicissitudes of the sea, pleading with the groom to remember their

plight while he is enjoying the fruits of connubial bliss. At the

same time, the epilogue also serves as a warning to the groom not

to stray from his felicitous haven.

Heinsius* poem is not only appealing due to the effective use

of the nautical schema and the balanced circular construction, but

also because of its lyrical qualities. Certain aspects of his message are highlighted through repetition in variation. For

example, to portray the fortunate sailor*b and groom's happy state, he employs the following clauses: "Sein kommen an das Land vor

aller Noth befreyt/ So fahren sie zu Port in Lust und Froligkeit;"

"Ihr habt das Land nun innen/ Da euch der Ostwind nicht mehr wirdt verwerffen kunnenj" and "...wann jhr dann in Lust und Rreuden

steht." And, Heinsius is able to convey his perspective on bach­

elorhood and marriage within the limitations of end-rhyme without

it appearing contrived.

The parallels which exist between the Petrarchan lover and the bachelor are obvious. Both are ruled by their lustful emotions.

Both are inextricably captivated by the transitory external beauty

of their lady. Hence, all their efforts to win her are ultimately * futile. Shipwreck is an impending and consequent result. By

elaborating on the negative aspects of bachelorhood, the marriage poems satirize the Petrarchan love system. The groom functions

as a foil for Jwth the bachelor and the Petrarchan lover, for his

actions are directed by reason and judgment. Because he values virtue, he is able to reach his desired port - marriage.

In analyzing the ship imagery of funeral poems in the -previous

chapter, we noted that to emphasize the desireability of heaven, the poet would contrast the joyous peace of heaven to the manifold miseries on earth, and then to point to the deceased's fortune in having escaped his terrestial tribulations. The surviving relatives would be asked to reflect on their own situation and be admonished to emulate the example of the deceased so that they, too, might reach the heavenly port. In the epilogue, Heinsius has adjusted this pattern to make it agree with his subject. The vehicle re­ mains the same, but the significance of the tenor is altered, for the port now is marriage (not heaven) and the sea is bachelorhood

(not the world). However, marriage is to be preferred to bachelor­ hood for the same reasons that heaven is to be preferred to the world. And just as only the devout Christian could reach heaven, so only a man governed by judgment and reason will enter the port of matrimony.

In the 1625 edition of Teutsche Poemata, a poem is dedicated 1 to honor the nuptials of Johann Mayer to Margarethe Gierlach in which Opitz imitates this newly established pattern by Heinsius.

But he concentrates more than Heinsius on depicting the disasters of bachelorhood. Opitz uses rhetorical hyperbole in a nautical metaphor to describe the perplexing predicament of unmarried men.

Ihr aber Bchifft im Meer Das kexnen Hafen hat/ da Unrouth und Beschwer An statt der Segel seyn/ da Klippen/ Wind und Wellen 136

Da rasende Begiehr sich euch zugegen stellen Hit sturmender Gewalt/ da gar kein Steuermann g Nicht angetroffen wird auff den man fussen kan.

The major part of the remainder of the poem is devoted to enumer­ ating the import of the cliffs, winds and waves mentioned in the above metaphor. Bachelors, Opitz argues, are reprehensible ser­ vants of vile lust which turnB them into liars, plagued with an unrelenting desire for sexual gratification. To further their affairs, they adopt foreign habits, wear stylish clothes, and move stealthily and silently, especially at night, in order not to be discovered. If they happen to pursue a virtuous woman who refuses to succumb to their depravities, they flatter her, wine and dine her, lavish her with presents, and even promise marriage to seduce her. Yet all their efforts to reach the port of their sexual fantasies are misdirected and futile. Though bachelors imagine themselveB to bo in control of the courtship game, they are in reality subject to the caprices of dissembling women; if a man wants to visit them, they expect him to wait; if he appears too eager to obtain their favor, he does not stand a chance; yet if he disregards them, they call him a fool or a coward. Strumpets mock nature~by painting their faces with makeup - even cowdung -, many apply civet to camouflage their natural body odor, and they ape new fashions. If fashion calls for white skin, they nibble chalk, coals, ashes, limestone or drink vinegar to blanch their skin. If these efforts are without avail, they adopt affected coyness: they avoid the company of men, seldom lift their eyes from the ground, rarely leave their house, and ignore secret love

messages. No pining, greeting or politeness can gain their af­

fections. Yet this apparent virtue is only a disguise to hide

their infamy. And blind youth is enchanted by this outward ap­

pearance.

This picture which Opitz paints of—the sea of bachelorhood is

purposely grim for didactic purposes. Opitz moralizes that the pursuit of mere sexual gratification results in futility, and those unwed men who do succeed in their endeavors pay dearly for their unbridled luBt. Ultimately they reap humiliation, insults, scorn,

ridicule, loss of money and precious time, the gout, loss of eye­ sight, kidney troubles, the shakes, or the French disease. With

Venus at the helm, they can not escape lasciviousness. Therefore he advises bachelors to reflect upon their situation and to emulate

the happy couple by mending their ways. Heinsius1 poem, though

didactic in nature, was cleverly executed and complimentary to the institution of marriage and the married couple. Opitz' scath­

ing attack on the evils of bachelorhood and his completely un­ sympathetic treatment of the courtship game is uncongenial and improper for-the occasion for which it was composed; and the ad­ vice to bachelors to emulate the happy couple at the end of the poem does little to counterbalance the bitter taste of the first part. Even his denunciation of the literary conventions of ele­ vating Greek gods as model lovers in the "Beschluss Elegie" dis­ cussed earlier is playfully mild compared to the above assault on 138

bachelors and their fickle ladieB. One can only surmise that this

vicious onslaught meant more to Opitz than mere adherence to and

intensification of the pattern established by Heinsius, In my

opinion, the above is a social critique in which Opitz decries the

attempts of foolish fops in real life to conduct themselves in

accordance with unnatural, literary stereotypes, a practice which

must have infuriated Opitz to such an extent that, at least in this

instance, he overstepped the bounds of propriety.

Dach * s poem on the wedding of Christoph Mehlich and Catharina

Hak is another example of this didactic trend. He elaborates on

the antithetical condition of unwed men with the wheel of fortune

as the carrying metaphor of which the nautical image is an integral,

but subordinate, part.

Wir Schiffen ohne Meer, wir segeln ohne Wind, Wir sehen keinen Port, darauff man fussen kunt',

Vnd dennoch lieben wir, gleich wie die stoltze Wellen Im tollen Meere gehn, gefiihrt alB hin zur Hellen, Die doch am andern Theil wie grosse Hugel sind Erhaben durch die FLuth vnd strengen Nordenwind

BiQ an der Sternen Sitz, so mussen wir auch leben, Die wir der Liebe sind zu Pflicht vnd Dienst ergeben. Der eine schwebt empor, der ander leidet Pein Vnd rauft des Gluckes Had vnd stete Kurtzweil seyn — (Dach, I, pp. 3-5)- « The nautical imagery here deviates somewhat from the pattern. In­

stead of being buffeted about by lust, the lover sails "ohne Meer"

and "ohne Wind." Such sailing is a physical impossibility which

points to the incredibly desperate predicament of Venus' victim.

The nautical simile, in which the waveB (compared to the bachelor) 139 are described as plummetting down "aur Hellen" and rising to form

"grosse Hugel ... Bifi an der Stemen Sitz," complements the falling and rising motion of the central image, the wheel of fortune to which the lover is inextricably bound. In the remainder of the poem, Bach celebrates the virtue of marriage by maligning the values of bachelorhood in a moralistic-tone.

Although the above pattern is representative of most Baroque marriage poetry, some poets actually concentrate on the probity of marriage instead of the evils of bachelorhood. One such example is Dach'B poem dedicated to the nuptials of Reinhold Langerfeld and Anna Maria Adersbach.

Du aber hast erreicht, Vorauff dein Wunsch gezielt, dein voiles Segel streicht Dem sichem Hafen zu, du kompst aus Sturm vnd Wellen Als Jason reicher heim, der Nort mag immer bellen, Er geht dich nicht mehr an, veil du bescheidenheit, Zucht, Ehr' vnd Tugend nicht blosses Mensch, erfreyt (Dach, I, pp. l80-l8l).

Dach regards the groom as a model to be emulated by bachelors and commends him for his wise resoluteness in choosing in a woman the qualities which produce a successful marriage: modesty, propriety, honor and virtue. The nautical image, "voiles Segel," depicted as nearing the-"Hafen" implies that Reinhold is about to be blessed with connubial consummation. Dach u s b b the mythological figure,

Jason who stole the golden fleece, to indicate that the room by his choice of partner surpasses that person in richness, for he consulted God and his own heart for the desirable traits in his future wife. He was not distracted from his goal by false, external 140 pulchritude - as the pun "blosses MenBch" designates - or swayed by fear, envy or the opinions of others. Dach uses a combination of nautical imagery, "Sturm und Wellen," and effective animal imagery, "der Nort mag immer bellen," to describe the obstacles the groom has surmounted with his perseverence.

The view that a good wife is heaven's reward is expressed in another poem by Dach.

Deine Braut, der Tugend Krohn', Jst der allerwehrtste Lohn Deiner Tugend, deiner Gaben, • • • • ... ein' Ehfraw ist allein, Die unB kan in Friede stellen, Vnser Hafen, unser Fort, Wenn der Sorgen wilder Nort Sturmt mit rawen Trubnis=Wellen.

Wenn sie still, verschwiegen ist, Fern von Vntreu, fern von List, Stets daheim gleich einer Schnekken, Wo ist meiner Seplen wol? Welchem kan ich, wenn ich sol, Meines Hertzens Grund entdecken?

Jhr, in ihrem keuschen Muth Wohnt Erquickung, Leben,.Gut, Sie gebiert mir einen Nahmen, Sie ist meines Hauses Feld, Das sich jahrlich fruchtbar halt Vnd vermehrt mir meinen Samen.

GOtt nimrat, Brautgam, deiner war, Jhre Zucht ist offenbahr, Jhr Trew und andre Gute (Dach, II, p. lto).

As prescribed by the ship of marriage schema, the bride is stereo­ typed as a port, refuge and solace as expressed in the terms,

"Die uns kan in_Friede stellen, Vnser Hafen, unser Port," and then her virtues are catalogued. Just as the groom serves as a foil to the bachelor (or the Petrarchan lover) in this schema, so the good wife functions as a foil to the shrewish, dissembling lady whom bachelors pursue. Just as a relationship with an inconstant woman is infertile, so marriage to an exemplary wife is fecund - "frucht- bar Vnd vermehrt mir meinen Samen." Though a good wife is a gift from heaven, the previous poem indicated' that a wise, reasonable, mature man must seek and choose her.

To be sure, in the final analysis both the motivations of the groom and the unmarried jrnan (or the Petrarchan lover) are deter­ mined by sexual considerations, but in the marriage poems the un­ inhibited, depraved lure of Venus is denounced. The action of the bachelor ia directed toward undiecriminating personal gratification the honored groom practices restraint - he does not indulge in premarital sex - and he adheres to the religious dictum of "be ye fruitful and multiply." In the marriage poems of the Baroque pe­ riod, sexual considerations in love were only considered proper within the framework of the acceptable social and religious mores.

Sexual fulfillment had to be sanctioned by the approved institution of marriage, otherwise it was regarded as evil: Opita admonishes youth for being enthralled by outward appearance, by defining the true qualities of a beautiful body in the following epigram.

Aus des Auctorn Hipponacte und Asterien.

Was ist dein schoner Leib/ du schnode blinde Jugend/ Gebricht es jhm an Zier der guten Zucht und Tugend? Die hellen Augen sind ein Fenster boser Lust/ Der Leib ist ein Hist' erfiillt mit Koth und Wust/ Der Mund ein Thor daraus sich Schand und Laster finden/ Der zarten BrUste Quell ein Brunnen aller Siinden/ Der Fewden Port die Schoss ein Grab der Uppigkeit Und Walstadt unsrer Bliit1 und beaten Lebenszeit. Wo aber aelten funden wird/ in einem Leibe wohnen/ Da atehet allea vol/ da sieht es lustig aus/ „ Dae iat ein schonor Wirth/ und auch ein schones Haus.

For the first time the port that youth seeks is clearly identified as the lap of a woman, and, as expected, the search for sexual gratification as an end in itself is cinsured by Opitz. This adherence to the acceptable social, religious norms accounts for the didactic nature of the wedding poems as they decried bachelor­ hood and praised the institution of marriage, because these poems were written in dedication of real people for a real occasion, the nuptials. The Petrarchan and erotic lore poems, on the other hand, represented an intellectual exercise by the poets, an attempt to see in how many innovative ways they could describe the topic of love. The marriage poems were written for the mental set and values of a middle class audience. Consequently, in this schema the virtuous wife as the port carries the connotation of a sanc­ tuary or haven, a connotation which is closely akin to the sig­ nificance of the City of God in the ship of the church metaphors, a parallel which is appropriate with the spiritual quality of the wedding ceremony performed under the auspices of God Himself. c. The Erotic Love System

In the erotic love poems the value system was adapted to form a new stereotype. Epigram number twenty in the third thousand of

Logau's Deutscher Sinn-Getichte drey tausend... represents an early, but yet undeveloped, example of the erotic love system.

Von der Urania —

Ist Urania der Himmel? Ja; ihr Buhler/ glaubt es gerne; Dann die Milchstrass ist vorhanden/ und die zwey Ge- schwisterSterne Die den Segel spannen auff und jhn heifl pflugen fort Durch das treffe nafle Saltz/ in den fiirgehabten Port. °

In classical mythology Urania is the muse of astronomy, and the

sister stars are the constellation Pleiades, the seven daughters of

Atlas and the Ocean-nymph Pleione. Their rising and setting, among

other things, was looked upon as the opening and closing of sailing

season - approximately the middle of May to the end of October.

As such, the message of the last two lines in the epigram seems to

be a command to sailors to hoist their sails at the appropriate

sailing time.

On the surface, the poem, then, appears to be about seafaring

and the role played by the stars in this venture. However, there

are two disturbing factors in this interpretation: Why does the

poem specifically address love.rs, and why is the number of the

sister stars limited to two when there fire seven? The answer to

this puzzle becomes clear when one realizes that the name "Urania"

is also an epithet of Venus. The title, "Von der Urania," is

purposefully ambiguous. It may mean either: about Urania the

muse of astronomy, or about Urania, the goddess of love. If one

adopts the latter interpretation, the sister stars acquire the meaning of breasts and the milky way implies the white throat of

a woman, both which spur man on his way in the hopes of reaching 1 M the port, the culmination of his desire. The poem has an erotic intent, but it is not an erotic poem because it lacks the post's delight in graphically describing the act of love. Rather, the ambiguity on the dual meaning of "Urania" draws the reader’s at­ tention away from the sexual implication and makes him focus on the intellectual gymnastics of the execution instead. The reader smiles, he is not aroused.

It should be noted that Logau does not berate the search for sexual gratification as immoral and indecent, and the poets whose works were collected by Benjamin Neukirch in his anthology, Herrn von Hofmannswaldau und andrer Deutschen auserlesner und bishor ungedruckter Gedichte, expanded his erotic suggestions. Lohen- stein’s major epic poem, "Venus," an allegory on love printed in this anthology, graphically defines and capsulizes the schema of this new system in an extended nautical metaphor which is a curious blend of the Petrarchan and erotic love systems.

Denn lieben ist nichts mehr/ als eine schifferey/ Das schiff ist unser hertz/ den seilen kommen bey Die sinn-verwirrungen. Das meer ist unser leben/ Die liebesswellen sind die angst/ in der wir schweben/ Die segel/ wo hinein blast der begierden wind/ Ist der gedancken tuch. Verlangen/ hoffnung sind Die ancker. Der magnet ist schonheit. Unser strudel Sind Bathseben. Der wein und uberfluB die rudel Der stern/ nach welchem man die steiffen segel lenckt/ Ist ein benelckter mund. Der port/ wohin man denckt/ Ist eine schone frau. Die ufer sind die bruste. Die anfahrt ist ein kuB. Der zielzweck/ sttsse luste. Wird aber hier umwolckt/ durch blinden briinste rauch/ Die sonne der vernunfft/ so folgt der schiffbruch auch/ Die eeel^imtorgang/ und der verderb des leibes': Den beyde todtet uns der lustbrauch eines weibes (Neukirch, I, pp. 293-29*0. Love is delineated in a lighthearted manner as "nichts mehr/ als eine schifferey/.*' ‘ The first half of the metaphor is conventional in that it enumerates the "sinn-verwirrungen," "angst," and "be- gierden" conventionally afflicting the Petrarchan lover. The second part of the metaphor, however, departs from the norm by introducing such erotic aspects into the system as "die steiffen segel," and "Die ufer sind die brxiste." The specific physical parts of the woman mentioned are the mouth and the breasts, which in terms of the sea voyage schema assume the functions of the North

Star and the shore.

However, Lohenstein still insists that a man seeking love should be guided by reason, for "Wird aber hier umwolckt/ durch blinder brunste rauch/ Die sonne der vernunfft/ so folgt der schiffbruch auch/." He warns, "der lustbrauch einee weibes" re- » «* suits in the physical and moral decay of one's body and soul. The emphasis on faith and repentance in the religious oriented ship of life allegory is replaced with the humanistic emphasiB on "Ver- nunft" in the secular oriented theme of love. The success or failure of man's voyage of love, Lohenstein contends, depends on his attitude. • Und soil das fluten-pferd nicht mehr die Thetis pflugen/ Wenn einmahl well und well auff Beil und segel b’ell'n. Und ein zerachmettert holtz durch eine klap zerschell'n/ Offt durch des schiffers schuld/ der moistens geht ver- lohren/ Veil er kein vorsichts-wachs ihm stoppfet fur die ohren; Venn die Sirene pfeifft/ weil er nicht weifl/ wo stein Und strudel frischer brunst vermieden mussen seyn. Der/ wenn die laster weh'n/ die segel steiffer sinnen I*t6

Nicht bald herunter fallt/ noch auch sain schvach beginnen Will anckern auff vernunfft (Neukirch, I, pp. 29**-295)«

Only a sailor like Odysseus, who approached the island of the sirens guided by wiBdom, can complete the voyage successfully. Lohenstein alludes to the Odysseus motif in arguing that jUBt because some incompetent sailor who "kein vorsichts-wachs ihm stopfet fur die ohren" suffered a shipwreck, and just because a sailor did not know how to respond properly to the siren's call, one should not cease to love. The implication behind the nautical metaphor is to point out that here is a sagacious and an inappropriate way to seduce a woman. The "stein" and "strudel" connote the lady's re- buffal in reacting to the hasty lover who forces his affections on her too quickly. Lohenstein's distinction between the correct and improper way to approach love has little to do with the moral and religious implications, of premarital and post-marital sex; it is rather a statement intended to convey a universal truth.

Although there are definite erotic implications present in

Lohenstein's metaphor, they are subdued. Other poets of this period are not as refrained aB he is. For example, in Johann von

Besser's poem, "Ruhestatt der Liebe/ oder Die schoofj der Gelieb- ten," the sexual descriptions are bold and the distinction between the reasonable and incorrect method to seduce a woman is no longer of any import. In fact, as this simile illustrates, only if Venus is the helmsman will the lover succeed.

Wie der magnet mit macht das eisen an sich ziehet/ Wie nach dem norden-pol die. nadel schlagt und ziehet/ Ik 7

So ist der liebsten schooB der nord und der magnet/ Wohin der gantze wunsch wahrhaffter raenschen geht (Neukirch, I, p. 22k),_

Man is attracted to the womb like the needle of a compass is at­ tracted to the north pole. Besser attributes the reason for this to the goddess, Venus, as he indicates later in the poem. Venus, he explains, was conceived in a seashell where she was weaned and rocked by the waves. Because the genitals of a woman bear the likeness of such a shell, the poet believes that after the queen of love abandoned her seashell, she placed it into the lap of women in order to draw all men’s desires to her shrine. The port, which in Lohenstein's "Venus" was simply identified as a woman, now be­ comes specifically the genitals of a woman. Opitz, of course, had already referred to the "schooB" as a port, but he rejected this goal as base. In the erotic love system this negative value is turned into a positive one.

Wenn denn ein traues paar in svisser glut entglommen/ Und deren seelen nun zusammen wollen kommen/ Bescheiden sie sich nur an den bestimmten ort/ Und dieses schifflein setzt sie uber an den port. Da wissen sie im fleisch zu brennen and zu spielen/ BiB der versteckte leim aus alien adern schaumt/ Und der vermischte geist gar aneinander leimt (Neukirch, I, pp. 225-226).

Besser depicts the sexual union with both relish and sensitivity focusing on the total submersion of the lovers in such terms as

"in susser glut entglommen" and "im fleisch zu brennen," is effec­ tive and clever. He also makes interesting use of the word "leim," which in one sense alludes to the sea bottom and resting place of

Venus' seashell, and in the other sense implies the semen which m

"aus alien a d e m schaumt" to intermingle and cement the spirits of man and woman. In another poem ascribed to Besser, he describes the female breasts as two white mountains with fiery tips, alluding to the volcanic, elemental power which has conquered the poet.

Neukirch's collection is replete with sensual poetry. There is, for example, the poem beginning with the line "Komm braune nacht/ umhulle oich mit schatten/" perhaps composed by Assman von

Abschatz.

Mein wort erstirbt/ die seele will entweichen/ Ach lass sie doch in enge himmel ein/ Lass schiff und mast in deinen hafen schleichen/ Und deino hand selbst meinen leitstem Beyn/ Du solt alebald die eingeladne gaben/ Nebst voller fracht statt der belohnung haben (Neukirch, I, p. *f22).

In thiB stanza, intercourse is proposed in the verbs "erstirbt” and

"entweichen" and further elaborated in nautical terminology. The

"enge himmel" and the port is the vagina, the mast betokens the penis, and the North Star symbolizes the woman's guiding hand.

The "eingeladne gaben Nebst voller fracht" in all likelihood refer to the possibility of conception, the "gaben" being the semen and the "fracht" being the cargo, with the metaphoric implication of baby. Just as dying was considered desireable for the Christian

* in the ship of the church and life poetry because it designated a uniting of the soul and God, so dying here implies fulfillment.

The use of ship imagery to allude to and depict intercourse sets the pattern and tone in the erotic love system. A part of a poem by Hofnannswaldau in which the lover actively seeks a shipwreck because it represents the climax reads as follows

Jedoch der schiffbruch wird versUsset/ Weil deines leibes marmel=meer Der mude mast entziickend grlisset/ Und fahrt auff dieses hin und her/ Biss endlich in dem zucker=schlunde . Die geister selbsten gehn zu grunde.

Nun wohl! diss urthel mag geschehen/ Dass Venus meiner freyheit schatz In diesen strudel moge drehen/ Wenn nur auff einem kleinen platz/ In deinem schoos durch vieles schwimmen/ Ich kan mit meihem ruder klimmen.

Da will/ so bald ich angelandet/ Ich dir ein altar bauen auff/ Mein hertze soil dir seyn verpfandet/ Und fettes opffer fuhren drauff; Ich selbst will einig mlch befleissen/ Dich gotts und priesterin zu heissen (Neukirch, I, pp. Vjg-^O).

A new aspect is perceptible in this poem. In the last stanza quo­ ted, the persona elevates his lady to a "gott= und priesterin" for whom he will build an altar on which he will sacrifice his heart.

Building an altar as a method of praising a deity for insuring safe

conduct is reminiscent of the biblical story of Noah and the ark.

This method of giving thanks, surprisingly, is overlooked in the other, religious, poetry analyzed in this study.

In Logau's epigram, "Von der Urania," we noted that its charm lay in the poet's playing on the double meaning of the word Urania.

A parallel situation exists with Hofmannswaldau'B poem "Florida."

Florida is both-a mistress and a land in the Americas, hence an exotic land. As such, it is a geographical area which is only 150

accessible to roan via a sea voyage.

MEin schiff treibt lufft und wind/ roich treibet lieb und brunst/ Ich muss in Florida den steiffen ancker sencken/ Beseegel ich die see vergebens und umsonst/ Sol ich dann ohne frucht das schwere ruder lencken? Gold/ perlen/ helffenbein begehrt roein hertze nicht/ Das leere Florida soli roir die augen fullen/ Und ob dem lande gleich der diamant gebricht/ So ist es doch genung roir roeine brunst zu stillen. Da soil mein wohnhaus seyn/ da sollen leib und geist/ In hochster freundlichkeit zusaromen sich ergotzen/ Da will ich/ wann und wie es das verhangniiss heist/ Mich in die grosse zahl der todten lassen setzen. Doch weil so roanches schiff auff dieser reise bleibt/ Da alles ist umzirckt mit klippen und mit steinen/ So ruff ich Venus an/ dass sie die wellen treibt/ Und vor den steuermann roir sendet ihren kleinen. Bringt Venus mich an port/ und setzet mich ans land/ . So will ich taglich roich zu ihrera temp el fiigen/ Und ich verspreche ihr mit sinnen/ hertz und hand/ Dass ich ins kunfftig will auff blosser erde liegen (Neukirch» II, p. 10).

It iB obvious that all references to the land are to be interpreted as the lady. The persona implores Venus to help him overcome ob­

stacles and to assign her son, Cupid, as helmsman. In this poem, the love act too is elevated to a spiritual level, for the poet's promise to visit Venus' temple daily connotes sexual union. Again,

dying is associated with the climax when the lover pleads "Da will ich ... Mich in die grosse zahl der todten lassen setzen."

As a variation to Lohenstein's concept of the sagacious method of seducing one's mistress, Besser and Hofmannswaldau at­ tribute the success of the lover as dependent on the paramour's consent. Besser uses nautical imagery to make this point in a poem ascribed to him. 151

Ich iibergebe nun mein schiff den wellen; Weil guter wind in meine scegel blast/ So will ich mich in deinen hafen stellen/ V/o deine gunst mich nur anlenden last; Die hoffnung ist mein see=compasB/ Wo die mich last/ so werd ich lass/ Und dttrre wie das laub und grass (Neukirch, I, p. 479).

And in Hofmannswaldau's poem, "An Calisten," the lover pleads with his beloved.

Eroffne mir das thor zum lande/ Wo zucker rinnt/ und wollust tafel halt; Lass rneinen kahn am engen strande In deine neu-erfundne welt. Du darffst dich nicht/ Caliste/ schamen; Das feigen=blat/ Das Eva fur sich must nehmen/ Zeigt und verdeckt nicht unsre lagerstatt (Neukirch, I, pp. 4lO-4ll).

Once more the sweetheart's body is described as a land in various ways: "lande," "strande," "welt," and "lagerstatt." The persona flatters her by describing her private parts with food imagery,

"Wo zucker rinnt/" and "wollust tafel halt," implying that consum­ mation means satiation. Intercourse itself is expressed in nau­ tical terminology. In a final attempt to induce Caliste to suc­ cumb to his wishes, the lover argues she need not imitate Eve in covering herself with a fig leaf.

Just because the poets of the second Silesian School composed erotic poetry, we are not to assume that they were incorrigible libertines. Hofmannswaldau, for example, exercised stylistic ver­ satility, for he wrote both Petrarchan and erotic love poems. And his personal 3*ife was above reproach. Rather, the cruel lady of the Petrarchan system, the chaste wife of the marriage poems, and 152

the sirens of the erotic system are poetic conventions that are

not intended to make any statement about the poet's personal in­

volvement with the ladieB he addresses.

Hofmannswaldau addresses himself to this point in "Der himmel

pflantzet mein gelucke," a poetic masterpiece.

Der himmel pflantzet mein gelucke/- Er lacht mich freundlich an durch tausend holde blicke/ Er macht aus winter fruhlings=zeit/ Er wircket mir selber zeug zu einem feyer=kleide/ Ich bin von boy and flohr befreyt/ Und meine wolle wird zu seide.

Ich kan den port itzt recht erreichen/ Und darff nicht um das haupt der leeren hoffnung streichen/ Mein ancker sincket in susse ruh/ Dein auge hat mir selbst ein leit=stern werden mussen/ Ja/ mein gelobtes land bist du/ Lass mich das vorgebiirge kiissen.

Schlag doch nicht mehr die augen nieder/ Ist denn mein reiner schertz/ Rosette/ dir zuwider? Ich bin dir ja nicht unbekandt/ Du kennest mein gesicht/ und auch mein treues hertze/ Drum glaube/ dass der liebe brand Sich starcket zwischen freud und schertze.

Wilst du dich der natur entreissen? Diss kan die tugend selbst nicht tugend heissen/ Das schone blumwerck deiner brust Ist nicht vor dich allein auff diese welt gebohren/ Es hat es auch zu meiner lust Des himmels ausspruch ausserkohren.

Du must, in dir nicht selbst verwesen/ Lass mich um deines mund die zucker=rosen lesen Durch einen unverwehrten kuss/ Lass doch den siisBen thau auff meine lippen rinnen/ Dass durch verliebten uberfluss Die geister selbst sich kiisBen konnen (Neukirch, I, pp. ^52-^53)-

In the first stanza, Hofmannswaldau uses personification to intro­ duce the theme of fertility and rejuvenation in the clauses "DEr 153 himmel pflantzet mein gelucke" and "Er macht aus winter friihlings- zeit." The last two lines emphasize the rebirth theme, for the shedding of clothes is reminiscent of a butterfly emerging from its cocoon. In the second stanza, the fertility-rejuvenation theme is converted into sexual foreplay and intercourse is depicted in the conventional nautical imagery. These two stanzas adhere closely to the expected schema of the erotic system with one exception.

One aspect introduced in the first two lines is closely akin to the system of the marriage poems in sentiment: the lover's

(groom's) happiness is under the auspices of heaven itself.

The third stanza, however, departs from the erotic system.

The lowering of Rosette's eyes can mean one of two things: that like the chaste woman of the marriage poems she is ashamed and embarrassed at the proposition, or that she is displaying an af­ fected coyness peculiar to the Petrarchan lady who cruelly teases the lover. In either case, it is an unexpected reaction to be found in erotic poetry where the lady is to play an active role in encouraging the lover's efforts; and therein lies the new twist.

The poetic persona, when he asks, "Ist denn mein reiner schertz/

Rosette/ dir- zuwider?", drops the facade of playing the erotic 4 lover. If the lady iB truly embarrassed, he claims that his in­ tention of seducing her, as outlined in the second stanza, should not be taken seriously; it is only, or purely, a joke, a "reiner q schertz." He is merely adhering to a poetic convention by sedu­ cing her in terms of nautical imagery. He assures her, "Ich bin dir ja nicht unbekandt/ Du kennest mein gesicht/ und auch mein treues hertze," and only afterwards he lapses back into playing the literary game even more effectively than before. If the lady's lowering of the eyes signifies affected modesty, the poet is ac­ tually satirizing the cruel Petrarchan lady, by pointing out that he, too, is ploying the game. —

In the second half of the third stanza and the last two stanzas, Hofmannswaldau piles up the conventional arguments de­ signed to entice his sweetheart. He redefines virtue with the argument: "Wilst du dich der natur entreissen? Diss kan die tugend selbst nicht eine tugend heissen." He secularizes the idea of heaven blessing sexual union by introducing the carpe diem theme and claiming that her beautiful breasts were created by heaven for his pleasure. The poem is rich in sensual imagery such as, "Das schone blumwerck deiner bruBt," "Lass mich um deinen mund die zucker=rosen lesen," and "Lasse doch den sussen thau auff meine lippen rinnen" to describe the lady's sexual attraction. In fact in these last two stanzas, Hofmannswaldau almost points to the lack of imagination inherent in couching the act of love in nau­ tical terminology, as he did in the second stanza. If one compares • the line "Mein ancker sincket in susse ruh" to the lines "Dass durch verliebten iiberfluss Die geister selbst sich kussen konnen," both of which describe intercourse, it is evident that the latter version is more subtle and imaginative than the former. Once the original analogy of intercourse to seafaring has been made, there 155 is little room for further elaboration and variation.

Hofmannswaldau's poem, as are other poems of this type,— is to be seen as a product of wit that says more about the cleverness of the poet than about his avowed intentions. Unlike the marriage poems written in dedication of real people celebrating their nup­ tials, the erotic love poems do not deal with a real woman, but with a figment of the poetic imagination. Already the classical allusions in the ladies' names reveal that they are not real women.

It is true, the manner in which the virtuous wife of the marriage poems is depicted is as standardized as the sensual woman of the erotic complex, nevertheless, the poet had greater freedom to exercise his creativity in portraying the erotic woman because he would not be maligning an actual woman's reputation. Hence, the erotic system has greater appeal and fascination. d. Inherent Value Differences Among the Three Love Systems

In analyzing the three love systems, it has become evident that the tripartite schema of seafaring, as outlined in the first chapter, was adapted to the theme of love with a difference of emphasis and values in the depiction of the relationship of the lovers. In the Petrarchan system the lover is plagued by passion and frustration, unable to obtain his pitiless sweetheart. In the marriage poems a distinction is made between the foolish ba­ chelor whose affliction is akin to the Petrarchan lover and the wise groom who marries a faithful, chaste homemaker the concomitant of which is an assurance of a happy future. In the erotic love complex-, the wooer is attracted to the siren by-her display of sensuality, and he responds by performing the seduction game. Although in the last system the woman is, in a sense, a sex object, she initiates the action. Without her consent, the lover's efforts are in vain.

This change in the relationship between the lovers affects the use of the ship metaphor. In the Petrarchan system the emphasis is placed on the lover's desperate predicament as he sails the stormy sea with no port in sight, a situation in which shipwreck is imminent. In the marriage poems the foolish bachelor suffers shipwreck, but the sagacious groom conquers the obstacles encoun­ tered in the voyage with reason and resoluteness of purpose. He lands safely in the port of marriage. Although there are still cliffs and rocks present in the erotic complex, they are objects to be sought, for they symbolize parts of the female's anatomy which represent certain milestones along the voyage of love, until the lover obtains the culmination of his desires. The schema of nautical imagery in each system is the same, but the interpretation varies: the port in one system may connote reason, in the other complex marriage, and in the third system the genitals. Within each system, however, the interpretation of nautical imagery is as standardized as the system itself is. To be sure, there are some minor modifications. For example, in the erotic love system the port is at one time interpreted as a woman, at another time as 157 the genitals. But in both cases the import of the port is the same: sexual fulfillment.

In the Petrarchan system, an attempt is made to elevate love to a higher, spiritual level in that the relationship between the wooer and his lady remains physically unrequited, hence pure. In the marriage poetry, the sexual intent,^of the bachelor has a moral stigma attached to it, whereas the relationship between groom and spouse are held sacred because it is approbated by the church.

These two systems espoused values which Baroque man could approve of. But Newald makeB the following comment regarding the reception of the erotic system.

Schon die Zeitgenossen nahmen es Hofmann ubel, daB er religiose Motive ins Weltliche umsetzte. Sie kannten den Unterschied zwischen der geistlichen Erotik Sinnenlust, sie wuBten aber nicht, daB sich der Ubergang von der einen zur andem nahezu zwangs- laufig vollziehen muBte.

Hofmannswaldau's contemporaries looked upon the secularizing of time-honored, sacred values with disdain. The secularizing pro­ cess is especially apparent in the nautical imagery in which the port, which signified the City of God in the ship of the church* and the ship of life poetry, became debased to mean the genitals in the erotic poems, and the cross became the phallus. Hofmannswaldau even elevated his mistress to the position of a goddess-priestess in the poem cited on page one-hundred and forty-nine. It is obvious that during a period when the unity of the Roman Catholic Church had been destroyed by various dissenters, poetry which seemed to further disintegrate the religious and moral values of Baroque man 158 met with acrimonious apprehension.

But were the poets of the Second Silesian School base and de­ praved by secularizing sacred images? X hardly think so. On the one hand, their poetry can be regarded as an enjoyable intellec­ tual exercise designed to discover in how many innovative ways they could deal with the theme of love,-devoid of any malicious intent. On the other hand, their poetry, and especially that of

Hofmannswaldau, was a satire on the Petrarchan system and ultimately a social critique. It satirized a love system which depictB the lover as a frustrated fool and the woman as a cruel, capricious, dissembling female. The poets perceive that the more normal male- female relationship is that of reciprocal fulfillment. The marriage poetry itself represented a compromise between the Petrarchan and the erotic system, for the groom practiced restraint until the wedding when sexual consummation was sanctioned. Hofmannswaldau and his fellow poets did not attack the religious-ethical basis of a successful marriage, but they did censure the social con­ vention which dictated a courtship ritual based on the Petrarchan system, as Opitz already did. Lohenstein, Besser, Hofmannswaldau and other composers of erotic poetry made the siren (the flesh) triumph over reason and morality (the spirit) for satiric purposes and they simultaneously provided the reader with vicarious ful­ fillment in the form of erotic poetry. Ab such, the poets of the

Second Silesian School had something valuable to say about life. 159

One of the startling, yet delightful effects of the love po­ etry, especially the erotic love Bystem, is the innovative, -playful manner in which the poets adapted the seafaring schema to their subject. The reader, who is accustomed to the patristic, eccle­ siastic context of the schema, is fascinated by the novel, re­ freshing way in which the traditional religious aspects of the schema are transformed into secular, at times even naughty, ones.

The authors appear to have enjoyed writing their poems, playing with the schema to discover what new nuances they could bring to it, and their enjoyment is communicated to the reader. To a great extent the poet's delight was due to the fact that in thiB in­ stance he could be inventive within the tradition, even though his inventiveness was limited by the very pattern he reinterpreted and secularized. However, when this opportunity at manipulating and redefining an established pattern does not exist, the pattern can become a trite formula. This happened in the ship of poetry metaphor, the subject of the next chapter. FOOTNOTES

1 cf. Richard Newald's synopsis of Hans Pyrita' Btudy in: Geschichte der deutschen Literatur, V (Munchen: C. H. Beck, 19S3TI pp.“lS2-l»7. ~

^ Martin Opita, ...Martini Opicci Teutsche Poemata... (Straftburg: In Verlegung Eberhard Zetan'ers, l62*f), pp* 26-27*

Benjamin Neukirch, Benjamin Neukirch Anthologie Herm von Hofmannswaldau und andrer Deutschen auserlesener und bisher ungedruckter Gedichte (Tubingen: Max Niemeyer, 1961), I, pp. 381-38^. Henceforth, any references to this book will be made in the text of the chapter in parenthesis. 4 In the poem, "Nachtklage," Opita states”

Die Sternen in deft Hicmels Feld/ So nachtlich leuchten aller Welt/ Die waren Buhler vor der Zeit/ Jetat stehn sie von Noth befreyt.

^ Simon Dach, Simon Dacha Gedichte, ed. Walther Ziesemer (Halle: Niemeyer), 1636-1636, I, pp. 68-69. 6 Martin Opita, Martini Opitii Acht Bucher, deutscher Poematum... (Bresslaw: In Verlegung Dauid Mullers, l625), pp. 102-107.

^ Martin Opita, o£. cit., pp. 232-233.

Q Friedrich von Logau, Salomons von Golaw Deutscher Sinn- Getichte drey tausend... (Bresslaw: In Verlegung Caspar Kloss- manns, 165^ . The epigram is No. 20 of the third hundred in the second thousand of this work.

160 l6l

g 7 It can be argued that my reading of the word "rein" in the expression "mein reiner schertz" as "it is only, or purely, a joke" is faulty, that the reading of the word is "pure." According to the latter interpretation, the poet wishes to stress that his seductive suggestions are not really base, vile or vulgar, indeed, that his feelings for the lady are pure. HiB acquaintance with Rosette ("Ich bin dir ja nicht unbekandt/ Du kennest mein gesicht") attests to the fact that he is not simply interested in a passing, physical relationship, because he remains true to her, "mein treues hertze." True love is strengthened by both enjoyment and teasing playfulness. The last two lines of the citation would then imply that through the physical union a higher spiritual union is achieved. However, I do not favor such a reading. In keeping with the conventions established by the system of erotic love poetry, I read the expression "Dass durch verliebten liber- fluss" as the ejaculation at the climax. Therefore, the poet is not so much interested in a relationship of spiritual fulfillment but physical gratification. In any case, whether we read the word as pure or purely, the poet calls his attempts to seduce Rosette a "schertz," that is to say, he is teasing her. When we are teasing a person, we are playing a game. However, when the game becomes serious, it is no longer a game. In my reading Rosette's reaction of lowering her eyes indicates that she misunderstands the game. Hence the poet points out to her that he is merely teasing.

^ Richard Newald and Helmut de Boor, Geschichte der deut­ schen Literatur. Die deutsche Literatur vom Spathumanismus zur Bnpfindsamkeit 1570-1750 (Munchen; C. H. Beck, 1963), V, *tth ed., p. 321. CHAPTER V: THE SHIP OF POETRY

In chapter two I quoted Windfuhr's assertion that in German

Baroque poetry the "Verbildlichung der"schriftstellerischen Arbeit als Schiffahrt" no longer occupies a central position* though it can still be found as a "Gebrauchsallegorie.11 Windfuhr's obser­ vation is essentially correct, but needs to be augmented. In contrast to the metaphors of the ships of life and love, where the schemata and variable components were adapted to meet the changing demands of the topics and themes, the poets simply did not change the inherited schema of the ship of poetry. As a result, poetic creativity became impoverished by the unwitting adherence to the traditional stereotype. But when a stereotype no longer is adapted to meet new insights, its pattern becomes fixed, stagnates and ultimately petrifies. This has happened to the metaphor of the ship of poetry in the literature of this period. In the majority of cases when the ship of poetry was utilized, it had lost its vitality and was reduced to the status of a convenient but trite and meaningless formula expressing .the poet's inability to manage his topic properly.

It has become a commonplace to refer to Curtius' study, Euro- paische Literatur und lateinisches Mittelalter, for general

162 l6j

information about ship imagery. ^ This practice appears to be based on a misconception concerning the scope of Curtius' analysis of nautical metaphors, because he only deals with one aspect of the tradition of nautical imagery - the ship of poetry. Curtius points out that already the Roman poets were wont to compare the composition of a work of art to a seajroyage. To compose is to set sails, and at the end of the work the sails are lowered. The schema is uncomplicated and lucid: the sailor symbolizes the poet or the poet's mind, the sea represents the subject matter, the ship connotes the poet's creative capacities, and the port signifies the completed work of art. Sailing the seas, that is the act of wri­ ting a poem, is fraught with the expected, conventional dangers of a sea voyage - cliffs, rocks, sandbanks, unfavorable winds, storms, waves, etc., - all of which impede the poet's progress. Given the

fact that the tenor of the metaphor is "poetry," the analogy be­ tween the composing of poetry and sailing the seaB is both apt and imaginatively developed in Roman literature. Furthermore, it was traditional, Curtius asserts, to open and close a work of art with a nautical metaphor. When Dante, for example, also opened and closed the Convivio with a nautical metaphor, he did so because it was traditional. In Dante’s case, it appears that the practice established in Roman times had not really changed in 1500 years. I now propose to survey a few typical examples, and one untypical one, of the usage of the metaphor of the ship of poetry in German

Baroque literature. 164

The I63O edition of Opitz* Schafferey von der Nitnfen Here ini e is supplemented by a dedicatory sonnet written by August BucKner.

Solt ich das grosse lob/ den Koniglichen schein/ Die thaten undt verdienst/ so von dem werthen stands/ Der dich erzeuget hatt/ durch alle ferne lande * Am liechten tage sindt/ recht preisen konnen? nein; Mir sey die faust dann stahl/ die feder demantstein/ Die tinte hergeholt von dem gelehrten strande Der beym Parnass entspringt: mein schiff bleibt an dem rande Undt lesst sich kuhnlich nicht in solche wellen ein. Wann einer femer auch die sit ten/ der Verstandt/ Die tugendt so du hast/ der edlen gaben pfandt Die mir der himmel schenckt/ der gantzen welt wil zeigen/ Muss hoher gehn als ich/ wiewol Apollo mir Mit milden handen reicht die leyer meine ziehr/ 2 Muss/ heldinn/ iiberauss wol singen oder schweigen.

While discussing topics of personal eulogy, Curtius singles out a series of "inexpressibility topoi" which all share one common de­ nominator, an emphasis on the poet's inability to cope with the subject. ^ Buchner adheres to this tradition. In the first qua­ train he laments his own ineptitude in proclaiming Opitz' merits and accomplishments throughout the world, and in the second quatrain he uses the hyperbolic images, "die faust (sey) dann stahl," "die feder demantstein," and the "tinte hergeholt von ... ParnasB," all symbols of poetic inspiration in this sonnet, to explain what tools he, and by extension any poet requires to do justice to such a task. The second.half of the second quatrain introduces the*ship metaphor: "mein schiff bleibt an dem rande Undt lesst sich kuhn­ lich nicht in solche wellen ein." The metaphor itself is not very striking or imaginative. The verb "sich einlassen," for example is at best indifferent, at worst dull. The adjective "solche" to describe the waves is pointlessly insipid. Only the adverb 165

"kuhnlich" add some sparkle and luster to an otherwise unimaginative metaphor.

Taken out of its context the picture of the ship remaining close to the shore, afraid to brave the waves of the open sea, does not tell us anything about the idea that the picture is supposed to convey. Within the context, however, this picture can only be interpreted as a metaphor for composing poetry whose intent is to further amplify Buchner's claim of his insufficient talents to treat his topic properly. From this point of view, the import of the ship metaphor is obvious and in keeping with the schema set forth by Curtius: the ship represents poetic talents, its journey means the act of composing, and the waves, that is, the sea, symbolize the subject matter. Since the ship remains near the shore, Buchner implies that although he is talented - "wiewol Apollo mir Mitt milden handen reicht die leyer meine ziehr" - he regards his poetic abilities inadequate for navigating the high seas of Opitz' merits and accomplishments.

On the other hand, Buchner imports that there are other, more talented poets who could do justice to the topic, poets whose poetic ship»_ so to speak, could sail the high waters he himself avoids. Now, Curtius points out that the Roman poets differentia­ ted between epic and lyric poets, the former sailing the open Bea in a large vessel and the latter being confined to paddling a small boat down a river. Buchner appears to allude to this distinction when he complains that "mein schiff bleibt an dem rande." The 166 incongruity between the topic and Buchner's supposed talents is foregrounded even more by his usage of the ship metaphor: his topic, a eulogy of Opita, is of epic proprotions, but his talents are restricted to writing lyric poetry, in this case, a sonnet.

The majority of references to the ship of poetry of the Ba­ roque period adhere to this establishe

0 Mars/ ich singe dich/ du starcker Gott der Kriege/ Du schuta d' Billigkeit/ du Geber aller Siege/ Beawinger der Gewalt, komm her/ ich singe dich/ Du Feldherr dieser Welt:, mein Geist der reget sich Zu fliegen in dein Lob:

The superhuman qualities of Mars, Opita discloses, have inspired him to write this epic eulogy, so that erroneous impressions that have been circulating about this god will be corrected. Opitz ostensibly attempts to enhance Mars' tarnished image by using des­ criptive qualities that normally carry positive connotations:

"starcker Gott," "schutz d' Billigkeit," "Geber aller Siege,"

"Bezwinger der Gewalt," and "Feldherr dieser Welt." The satiric intent lies in the fact that the brutal acts of war cannot be disguised by. the above positive phrases, and the audience for whom

♦ Opitz wrote was fully cognizant of this fact. Opitz denounces war by reversing values, by praising what he is decrying. With a series of rhetorical questions which on the surface were designed to belittle his own creative expertise, Opitz ironically under­ scores the negative qualities of war. 167

Was thu ich aber doch? Wer wil dich recht beschreiben Vnd deine kiihne Krafft? Wo wird mein Schiff verbleiben In dieser hohen See? (Opitz, p. 136). —

The similarity to Buchner's usage is apparent, though in this in­ stance the satiric inversion of values makes the metaphor palatable, if not novel, for the reader.

Simon Dach, too, imitates the perfunctory formula used by

Buchner and Opitz. One example occurs in an occasional poem, whose full title will be cited since it clearly specifies the occasion for which it was composed: "Da Churfiirstl. Durchl. Hr. GEORG WIL­

HELM in hoher Begleitung Chur=Printzl. Durchl. Herm, HN. FRIEDRICH

WILHELM, beyder Marggraffen zu Brandenburg, in PreuBen, etc. etc.

Hertzogen etc. etc. hieselbst in Konigsberg den 23sten HerbstM.

1638. erfreulichst einkam." ^

Was aber will mein Segel Auff dieses weite Meer? Ich bleib' im stillen Pregel Und lasse nicht "mein Boht in solche Wellen ein (Dach, p. 151)•

In Buchner's sonnet, the poet implied by means of the ship metaphor that although he himself is not sufficiently talented for the pre­ scribed task, other poets may be. Dach is much more explicit. He avers that his talents are deficient and asserts that Opitz, though the latter too may incur difficulties, would be much more qualified to delineate Charlotte's virtues.

Wer solche Trefligkeit und dieser Gaben Schein Zu singen ihm getrawt, mufJ so gebuckt nicht gehen, Nicht irrdische seyn wie ich, mull konnen sich erhohen Durch Lufft und Himmel weg. Auch Opitz wiird fast Hierinnen furchtsam seyn und schewen diese Last, Ob seinetrGeiBtes Krafft schon viel bilSher getragen Und sich an manches Lob mit Rhum hat thuren wagen, Wozu ich gantz nicht taug (Dach, p. 151)* 168

The fact that Dach characterizes his poetic abilities as a "Boht," a vehicle which is unsuited for a journey on the open sea, under­ scores his contention that his talents are limited.

Dach's claim that his talents are restricted to poems of les­ ser caliber is reiterated throughout his poetry, as follows:

Hie nehm' ich mein Segel, Mein schwacher Kahn gehort nur in den linden Pregel Und keine wuste See (Dach, II, p. 270)* or when he uses the diminutive, "Kahnchen," to express his supposed ineptitude,

Wo wollt* auff so weitea Meer Mein geringes Kahnchen bleiben? (Dach, III, p. 355)• or again,

Nein, mich schreckt die Furcht der wachen Wo daB Meer zu hoch und tief, Darumb soli mein kleines Schiff Sich nicht weit vora Ufer machen: Lest des PregelB'gruner Rand Ihra mein schlechtes Spiel vor alien, Wie ich mercke nur gefalien, Bin ich weit genug bekannt (Dach, I, p. 38)•

A corollary to the axiom that’the epic poet voyages over the open sea in a big ship and the lyric poet sails on a river in a small boat is the fact that the letter's fame and reputation is more restricted. The last cited passages allude to this traditional distinction, and Dach's repeated references to his Btnall boat and the "linde Pregel" are not primarily intended to add local color

(though they do this, too) but to point to the classic distinction between epic and lyric poets and their proper poetic domain. In one sense, Dach claims that his talents lie in lyric poetry and 169

that he is satisfied if he can excell in this art form.

One should, of course, not take these allegations of poetic

ineptitude seriously. As stated previously, Curtius has shown

that all such claims belong to the category of "inexpressibility

topoi," and the assertions that other poets of established merit

also would have difficulties with the prescribed task, as Dach

Btates of Opitz in one of the cited examples, is a stock formula of this tradition. The inexpressibility topoi in turn are a part of another pose, that of affected modesty. It was considered' proper for a judicial orator to exhibit submissiveness and humility in front of the judges by referring to his feebleness and inadequate preparation for the law suit in order to put the judges into a

favorable, attentive and tractable state of mind. This pose from

Roman judicial oratory was taken over by other literary genres, and in the above instances it was voiced by the "inexpressibility to­ poi." In the examples we have seen so far, the ship of poetry meta­ phor no longer makes a valid statement about the act of composing a poem. It is merely a convenient formula which emphasizes the claim of the poet's inability to deal with his subject, and as such points to the poet^s modesty.

In an autobiographical poem, "Danckbarliche Auffrichtigkeit an Herrn Robert Roberthinen," Dach reveals what I consider to be his real attitude toward his talents (Dach, I, p. 187). He af­ firms that he has lost his popularity as a poet, and he wonders whether this loss can be ascribed to human capriciousness, or 170 whether he has truly forfeited hiB creative powers. Formerly he was held in such high esteem, he avows, that whenever he wrote a mere trifle, the populous thronged about him, praised his creations, and proclaimed that no one in Prussia surpassed his genius, indeed, that no one was his peer in capturing the beauty of the German language. But now it seems that he has_been deprived of his right­ ful place in the hierarchy of the muses. Nor, he protests, is his physical illness a handicap to his intellectual faculties, or a detriment to his poetic craftsmanship. He feels, that during his life he has accumulated such a wealth of knowledge and experience, that he could be more productive than ever now.

A person who is as convinced of his capabilities as Dach ap­ pears to be in this poem can not, at the same time, mean what he says when he demeans his poetic abilities. I find it rather inter­ esting that when Dach makes truthful comments about his work, he does not employ the ship metaphor. For Dach, the metaphor of the ' ship of poetry must have already become such a cliche that it no longer makes a valid, sincere statement about his vocation. It is an inherited literary device, not a statement about reality.

One of_the tenets of the traditional schema of nautical imagery is that the sailors, by their own efforts, can not surmount the vicissitudes of the seas. Applied to poetry it means that the poet on his own can not successfully cope with his subject. He needs succor. In his Buch von der Deutschen Poeterey. Opitz draws attention to the prescribed traditional pattern of introducing an 171

epic, and he uses his own "Trostgedicht in Widerwertigkeit deB

Krieges" as a working example.

Ein Heroisch getichte (das gemeiniglich vieitleufftig ist/ vnd von hohem v/esen redet/) soil man stracks von seinem inhalte vnd der Proposition anheben; ... Vnd ich (...) hebe an in dem ersten buche der noch vnaufl- gemachten Trostgetichte in Widerwertigkeit deB Krieges: DeB schweren Krieges last den Deutschland jetzt empfindet/ Vnd das Gott nicht vmbsonst so hefftig angeziindet Den eifer seiner macht/ auch wo in solcher pein g Trost her zu holen ist/ soli mein getichte sein.

• It will be noticed that the subject matter of the heroic epic is

characterized as possessing a "hohes Wesen," and that the adjective

"hoch" is most frequently used to describe the open sea, or its

waves. Now, to do justice to a serious, lofty endeavor, the epic

poet must Beek to enlist the aid of a divinity to provide poetic

inspiration, says Opitz (Opitz, Buch, p. l8). In his own poem the

plea for help reads:

... der/ den ich mir erkohren anzuflehen/ tfird seiner Gnaden Wind in raeine Segel wehen/ So das mein kuhnes Schiff/ das jetzund fertig steht. Vnd auff die Hohe wil/ nicht an den Boden geht. Wann dieser Stewermann das Ruder Vns regieret/ Wann dieser sanffte West/ wird auff der See gespuret/ Da kornpt man wol zu Port/ es ist kein sturraen nicht/ „ Kein KieB/ kein harter Grand an dem das Schiff zerbricht.

Opitz' invoked deity (ihe "du" of the first line) is not one of the

classical muses, but the Holy Ghost. The Christian content of'his

epic explains thiB change from the traditional invocation, a devi­

ation which Milton later also uses in his Paradise Lost. Other

than this variation, the invocation is conventional. It is, at the

same time, one of the few examples in which the ship of poetry meta­

phor occurs in an expanded form. The helmsman steering the ship is the invoked deity, the Holy Ghost, symbolizing divine inspiration.

The ship itself, the poet alleges, is prepared and eager to-venture

forth into the unfathomed sea. Though Opitz does not specify what this readiness signifies, we may assume that it pertains to a mastery of poetic techniques. After all, the Buch von der Deutsches

Poeterey is an instruction manual on such methods.

Yet, in the very first sentence of his poetic, Opitz professes that technical skills acquired by the poet do not guarantee artis­ tic finesse and creativity.

WJewol ich mir von der Deutschen Poeterey/ auff ersuchung voraemer Leut/ vnd dann zue beflrer fortpflantzung vnserer sprachen/ etwas auff zue setzen vorgenommen; bin ich doch solcher gedancken keinen weges/ das ich vermeine/ man konne iemanden durch gewisse regeln vnd gesetze zu einem Poeten machen (Opitz, Buch, p. 7)»

Technical competence must be coupled with divine inspiration, that

is, poetic inspiration, if the ship is to reach the port intact. —* Hence the invoked deity is endowed with a dual symbolic function: the helmsman piloting the ship, and the gentle west wind, Zephyrus, mobilizing the vessel. Traditionally Zephyrus is the wind of

growth and fruition. In the context of the ship of poetry metaphor

this fruition signifies intellectual productivity. Hence, when technical ability is combined with poetic fecundity, no obstacles,

Opitz contends, can prevent the successful completion of the poem.

The repetition of "Wann" and "kein" in the poem cited on the pre­ vious page serves to emphasize Opitz' confidence of success.

But what*'do the images - storms, rocks, and the hard bottom of the sea - represent in the poetic voyage? Opitz does not enlighten the reader; hence the latter is left to judge for himself. De­ pending on the reader's psychological set, his preconceived-ideas, he will ascribe to those dangers whatever difficulties he connects with writing poetry: lack of imagination, lack of technical skills, lack of knowledge, etc. Since Opitz does not elucidate what perils he himself fears, and his poetic seems to indicate that he really is not apprehensive, it appears that he only enumerates these impediments because the tradition calls for it.

In a eulogy of Johann Philip, bishop of Wurzburg and duke of

Franconia, Sigmund Birken writes:

Thalia heist mich singen von Dir/ 0 theurer Fiirst/ und deinen Ruhra vorbringen. der Sachen sind zuviel. mich unterdruckt der Hauff. wo werd ich fangen an? wo hor ich wieder auff? ich fiirchte/ dieses Meer mocht meinen Kahn verschlagen. ich lasse mich nit gern auf diese Hohe tragen. der Mast zu nidrig ist. die Ruder sind zu schwach. Nun/ Musa steh mir hey/ wend alles Ungemach von meinen Segeln ab. °

Birken*s invocation differs from Opitz* not only in that he implores one of the traditional, classical muses but also in that he purports to be compelled by his muse to write this eulogy. Birken, too, feels disquieted about the enormity of his assignment. Again, the virtues and accomplishments of the person to be extolled, in this case Johann Philip, are claimed to be of such magnitude, that the sea - the subject matter - may drive the poet’s boat - hie ability - off course. Furthermore, the poet's boat is ill-equipped for such a voyage because its mast is too low and its oars are too weak. The images "Mast" and "Ruder" are not defined further, but in all 17^ probability they connote technical skills. Hence Birken suggests that his talents and skillB do not lie in the art of panegyfTc poetry, a contention that is supported by the fact that his muse is

Thalia, the muse of comedy and bucolic poetry. Birken, like Bach, therefore, aptly uses the word boat to denote his limited poetic potential. And as was the case with Bach, we can not take Birken*s claims at face value.

In all the examples cited to this point, the ship of poetry metaphor is sacrificed to various "inability to cope with the sub­ ject*' topoi. I have been able to find only one exception to this function: Weckherlin's ode dedicated to Johann Friedrich of Wur- temberg. The first strophe and antistrophe, which contain all the nautical references in the poem, read as follows:

Bie 1. Strophe.

Gleich wie ein Patron, welcher lang Sein schif nach nohturft wol versehen, Pfleget in des hafens auBgang Erwartend guten wind zustehen, Bamit Er mit behertzter hand Moge seine segel aufziehen, Und der armut balder entfliehen Burch des winds glucklichem beistand: Also will Ich mich nicht bewogen, 0 mein Printz, meine zuversicht, Bift ihr meiner Musen veraogen Mit verhilflichem angesicht Werdet eine seglung auflogen.

Antistrophe.

Alsdan, wan ewer gnadenblich Wurdiget Ihre fahrt zurichten, Soli weder_sturrawind, noch ungluck Burch die flut Ihre raiS vernichten: Bie zwilling-klippen, und das sand, Und die Charbydische gefahren Konden ihr zu euch durch zufahren Ersaigen keinen widerstand: ___ Sondern sie soil khiin Euch zu ehren Durch Ewerer Tugenden mohr Mich forchtlofi die segel zu kehren, Ja durch der grosten feinden hor„ Sicherlich zu pasBieren lehren.

Weckherlin begins with an epic simile comparing the owner of a ship to a poet. Just like the former must devote some time to prepare for the journey, so the poet must make provisions for his endeavor, that is, he must acquire the requisite technical skills.

Like Opitz, however, Weckherlin recognizes that technical prepa- ration is not enough, though in his case not the muse, but a patron of the arts furnishes the necessary favorable winds in the form of both intellectual stimulation and financial support. The phrase

"meiner Musen vermogen" hints at this dual function of the patron, for the noun "Vermogen’1 denotes both ability and solvency. Once the favor of the patron is granted, nothing can jeopardize the progress of the muse's journey. Weckherlin enumerates the ob­ stacles which may menace the ship of poetry: storms, misfortunes, the twin cliffs (an allusion to Scylla and Charybdis), sand and other charybdian dangers. Again, as was the case with Opitz, the precise nature of these hazards is not elaborated. The reader is left to read any interpretations he deems appropriate into the metaphors, and the reader's psychological set determines how he construes the possible dangers.

In contrast to the other poets, Weckherlin does not mention his poetic insufficiency. In fact, if anything, the antistrophe depicts the poet’s complete confidence in his talents. This ap­ parent deviation from the standard pattern, however, is due To

Weckherlin1s purpose for writing the poem: he hopes to persuade the duke of the value of poetry in general, and to impress him with his own creative genius, so that he might obtain a suitable position for his talents at court. Given this rather prosaic purpose, it would be a tactical blunder to stress one's poetic ineptitude.

The standardized, pedestrian manner in which the majority of

German Baroque poets used the metaphor of the ship of poetry re­ flects the inherent weakness of the traditional schema. In the analogy between seafaring and composing poetry, all the parallels that could possibly be made had already been drawn in Roman times.

There was little room for adapting the traditional schema; it could *4 •* only be passed on intact. Hence it lost its freshness and ceased to make a valid statement about the writing of poetry. In the poetry of this era, both its linguistic scope, that is its vocabu- laric selectivity, and its function within the poem, is rather limited and predictable. Of all the verbs which could have been used to animate the metaphor, the most frequently used are: "blei- ben," "einlassen," "wollen," and "sein." Other verbs equally inert are: "laasen," "nehmen," "machen," "stehen," "gehen,"

"kommen," etc. More potent verbs, such as "sturraen," "zerbrechen,"

"verschlagen,'.'.J'vernichten," and "wehen," occur in only one in­ stance in each of the poems cited. Nor are the adjectives apt or colorful. In Weckherlin’s poem cited on page one-hundred and seventy-four, adjectives describing nautical nouns are simply omitted, except for two examples: ’’guten Wind" and "Charybdische gefahren." In the other poems cited in this chapter, the following examples occur: "mein schiff," "an dem rande," "solche wellen,"

"mein segel," "mein Boht," "zu Port," and "des Hafens." These examples illustrate the lack of adjectives. When adjectives are used, they are limited in number, common, frequently monosyllabic, and unimaginative like: "gut," "hoch," "weit," "still," "schwach,"

"lind," "wUst," "gering," "klein," "nidrig," "hart," and "kuhn."

By being reduced to a prefabricated formula comprising per­ functory, redundant linguistic segments in order to emphasize the

"affected modesty" and "inability to cope with the topic" topoi, the nautical images relating to poetry become tarnished and petrify.

When this occurs, the metaphor grows stagnant and becomes prone to monotony to the point of irritating the reader with its predicta­ bility. Ultimately, one is tempted to repeat Newald's remarks with which this study began, "Bis zum Uberdrufl wird die Schiffahrt mit oder ohne Fortunasegel als Lebenssymbol abgewandelt," and para­ phrase it to. apply to the ship of poetry metaphor. FOOTNOTES

Ernst Robert Curtius, Europaische Llteratur und latoinisches Mittelalter (Bern und Munchen: Francks, 1961. 3rd edTTJ P» 35* Further references to this work will be cited in parenthesis in the text of this chapter.

^ Martin Opitz, ...Schafferey von der Nimfen Hercinie (Ge- druckt zum Brieg: In Verlegung Dauid Mullers Buchhandlers in Bresslaw, 1630), p.

^ Ernst Robert Curtius, op. cit.

** Martin Opitz, HLob des Krieges Gottes," in Weltliche Poemata, l6Vf (Deutsche Neudrucke, Reihe: Barock, Tubingen: Niemeyer, 1967), p. 136ff. Further references to this work will be cited in parenthesis in the text of this chapter.

** Simon Dach, Simon Dachs Gedichte, ed. Walther Ziesemer (Halle: Niemeyer), 1636-1638, 5vols. Further references to this work will be cited in parenthesis in the text of this chapter.

^ Martin Opitz, Buch yon der Poutschen Poeterey (Tubingen: Niemeyer, 19^3)» PP* 17-18 •

^ Martin Opitz, ’’Trost-Gedichte.. •," in Gesammelte Werke, Band I. Die Werke von l6l*f bis 1621, ed. Georg Schulz-Behrend (Stuttgart: Hierseman, 1968), p. 193.

8 Sigmund von Birken, OBtlandischer Lorbeerhayn/ ein Ehren- gedicht von dem hochstlobl. Erzhaus Osterreich: einen Fiirsten- Spiegel/ ..• neben dem osterreichischen Stam- und Zeit-Regist er/ kurtzlich vorstellend: samt einem Anhang von Ehrengedichten/"an Fursten/~Srafen und Herren (Nurnberg: M. Endter, 1657).

^ Georg Rudolf Weckherlin, Georg Rudolf Weckherlins Gedichte, ed. Herman FiBcher (Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesell- schaft, 1968)1 2. vols., I, pp. 108-109. 178 CONCLUSION: THE DEATH OF THE CLASSICAL

AND PATRISTIC SEAFARING TRADITION

The aim of this study was to analyze nautical imagery in German

Baroque poetry. The philosophic, theoretic foundation from which I proceeded is the theories of perception as expounded by Amheim and

Gombrich, especially the letter's theory of the adapted stereotype.

Gombrich asserts that without a stereotype, without a schema that can be corrected, man could not cope with the flux of experience.

"You cannot create a faithful image out of nothing!1 (p. 83).

These schemas, which are absolutely necessary for both man's per­ ception and rendering of reality or truth, exert a powerful spell over the artist, even when he believes he is creating something new. "The familiar will always remain the likely starting point for the rendering of the unfamiliar; an existing representation will always exert its spell over the artist even while he strives to record truth!1 (p. 82). By examining the classical and patris­ tic use of seafaring allegories, I outlined the schema of ship imagery which became a tradition in-European literature, a tradition with which German Baroque poets were familiar. *• As man'B perception of reality changes, the schemas, if they are to continue to be viable patterns for seeing and recording the

179 i8o new perception of reality, must be adapted to meet and satisfy the new demands. As we have seen, in seventeenth century Germany the historical situation demanded that the traditionally negative at­ titude toward the seafaring merchant be re-evaluated. Similarly, after the Reformation, an event which could well be described as the shipwreck of the unity of the church, -the usage of the ship of the church metaphor disappeared almost completely from the works of the predominantly Protestant poets and was replaced by the ship of life metaphor which emphasized the individual's struggle for sal­ vation, as dictated by the Lutheran concept, "Bola fides." Since the familiar is the likely starting place for depicting the un­ familiar, the ship of life metaphor is modelled after the ship of the church metaphor.

Any situation or subject which can be perceived as analogous to seafaring can be depicted by nautical imagery. Love is one such subject. I attempted to point out that much of the charm and vi­ tality in the ship of love metaphor lay in the playful and clever way in which the traditional religious associations of the schema became secularized. Of course, a schema which ceases to be an adequate expression of man's perception of truth or reality may cease to be used, or, if it is used, it can become trite and petrify.

The latter alternative occurred in the ship of poetry metaphor which became a perfunctory formula that no longer made a sincere, meaningful statement about the poet's feeling toward his craft. In the eighteenth century, man's perception of his relationship to reality changed significantly. His speculations turned from the hereafter to the here and now; he was no longer primarily preoccu­ pied with the salvation of his immortal soul but with his place, position, and purpose in this world. In a discerning article,

Bernhard Blume analyses the literary consequences of this new at­ titude toward reality. Blume suggests that "das Metaphernsystem des Barocks bricht zusammen, und zwar deshalb, weil das Glaubens- und Wertsystem, auf dem es beruht hatte, abzusterben beginnt." 1

Blume's example to prove his contention is the tradition of the sea voyage as a symbol of man's life on earth. Blume demonstrates that the theme of the sea voyage receded into the background, in

fact the open sea ceased to play a significant role in eighteenth century literature. "Statt dessen erscheinen Fluese und Seen, und auf ihnen Kahne und kleine Nachen" (p. 356). Blume explores the motif of the "Kahnfahrt" in representative authors of this era, and he finds that frequently the boats, lakes and rivers have little or no connection to the main theme of the poem in which they occur.

In the idyllic poetry of GeBner and Bronner, for example, Blume contends that "Schiff und Kahn bedeuten, soweit sie nicht einfach

Fahrzeuge der ihrem Erwerb nachgehenden Manner sind, soviel wie

Laube, Nest, Bett und Liebesgrotte: Orte erotischen Miteinanders"

(p. 360). Even more frequently, boats are rendezvous places for a group of friends or a family. "Was wir immer wieder finden, ist das Bild der geselligen, durch Freundschaft, Liebe oder Blutsverwandtschaft verbundenen Gruppe, die aich im Boot auf dem

Wasser bewegt" (p. 3^3)* During the trip on their boat, the group would often discuss the topical virtues of moderation and restraint, of peace and honesty, of harmony and friendship, of contentment v/ith little- The picture of the sea voyage on the open sea, in which the ship is constantly threatened-by winds and waveB, in which there is the omnipresent danger of a shipwreck, in which the sailor is always surrounded by death and destruction as he struggles for survival, was not a suitable schema for depicting these con- corns. As Blume states,

Von jeher war das Meer ein groBes Symbol des Unbe- kannten, Unbegrenzten, Unendlichen gewesen; jetzt wendet man sich zum Bekannten, zum Begrenzten, zum Endlichen. Man vermeidet die endlose Flache, die dem Blick keinen Halt gibt, man bevorzugt das Uber- schaubare und bewegt sich in einer begrenzten und begrenzbaren Welt, in der das Ufer in Sicht bleibt. Kan fahrt vom fasten Land aus, bleibt in seiner Nahe und kann jederzeit zu ihm zurlick (p. 373)*

The old will always remain the likely starting point for render­ ing the new. The distinction between sailing the open seas in a big ship as opposed to being located in a small boat on an inland lake or river is not unfamiliar to the reader acquainted with the tradition of the ship of poetry metaphor. It appears that the poets of the eighteenth century used the ..traditional schema for depicting the difference between the epic and the lyric poet and adapted it to depict their attitude toward life in general.

Although the reference to the high seas and its symbolic possi­ bilities no longer dominates, there are some notable exceptions. 183

Blume points out that the great minds of this century, like Goethe,

Klopstock and Herder, could not do without the sea metaphor. How­

ever, when the sea voyage is employed, as it is in Goethe's poem,

"Seefahrt," it appears that the traditional interpretations and meanings of the metaphor, as they were still used in Baroque poetry, are no longer of any help to the critic- in his analysis and evalu­ ation of the poem. This particular example verifies Blume*s con­ tention that the metaphoric systems of the seventeenth century have collapsed.

Goethe's "Seefahrt" reads as follows:

Lange Tag* und Nachte stand mein Schiff befrachtet; Gunstgor tfinde harrend, sass mit treuen Freunden, Mir Geduld und guten Mut orzechend, Ich im Kafen.

Und sie waren doppelt ungeduldig: Gerne gonnen wir die schnellste Reise, Gern die hohe Fahrt dir; GuterfUlle Wartet driiben in den Welten deiner, Vird Ruckkehrendem in unsem Armen Lieb und Freis dir.

Und am fruhen Morgen wards Getummel, Und dem Schlaf entjauchzt uns der Matrose, Alles wimmelt, alles lebet, webet, Mit dem ersten Segenshauch zu schiffen.

Und die Segel blUhen in dem Hauche, Und die Sonne lockt mit Feuerliebe; Ziehn die Segel, ziehn die hohen Wolken, Jauchzen an dem Ufer alle Freunde Hoffnungslieder nach, im Freudetaumel Reisefreuden wahnen, wie des Einschiffmorgens, Wie der ersten hohen Sternenachte.

Aber gottgesandte Wechselwinde treiben Seitwarts ihn der vorgesteckten Fahrt ab, Und er scheint sich ihnen hinzugeben, Strebet leise sie zu uberlisten, Treu dem Zweck auch auf dem schiefen Wege. m

Aber aus der dumpfen grauen Ferne Kundet leisewandelnd sich der Sturm an, Druckt die Vogel nieder aufs Gewasser, Druckt der Menschen schwellend Herz darnieder; Und er kommt. Vor seinem starren Wiiten Streckt der Schiffer klug die Segel nieder, Mit dem angsterfiillten Balle spielen Wind und Wellen.

Und an jenem Ufer druben stehen Freund' und Lieben, beben auf dem-JPesten: Ach, warum ist er nicht hier gebliebenl Ach, der SturmZ Verschlagen weg vom Gliicke! Soil der Gute so zugrunde gehen? Ach, er sollte, ach, er konntel Gottori

Doch er stehet mannlich an dem Steuer: Mit dem Schiffe spielen Wind und Wellen, Wind und Wellen nicht mit seinem Herzen. Herrschend blickt er auf die grimme Tiefe Und vertrauet, scheiternd oder landend, Seinen Gottern. 2

On the superficial level, the poem is about a personundertaking a voyage by boat, and the problems he encounters. The reader fa­ miliar with the traditional sea allegories might claim that we are confronted by a new adaptation of the allegory of life. He may point to the various motifs in this poem that find their origin in the tradition. For example, stanza one is reminiscent of the opening stanza of Weckherlin*s poem cited on pages one-hundred and seventy-four to seventy-five of this study. The joy at the final arrival of favorable winds expressed in stanzas three and four-, too, are very much a part of the tradition. When the encouraging signs of stanzas three and four change in stanza five, the reader knows that traditionally the promise of a propitious journey is often followed by raging storms, and the lowering of the sails in a storm, too, is normal. Nor does the description of the winds and 185 waves toying with the ship surprise the reader.

To be sure, Borne deviations from the tradition are also"quite apparent. For example, it is the sailor's friends and not the sailor who despair during the storm. Even though this difference could be regarded as a novel and successful adaptation of the schema, the last stanza does not lend itself to such an interpre­ tation. From the Christian viewpoint, the persona has usurped the rightful place of Christ by taking over the helm, and as such his sinful hybris should elicit Qod's wrath. However, such words as "mannlich" and "Herrschend" would signal to the more discerning reader that Goethe is praising, not denouncing, the self-confidence the persona exhibits in his own abilities, even though his destiny ultimately may be preordained by the gods. In the tradition, not the sailor's attitude, but the final outcome determined the success or failure of the voyage. In Goethe's poem this emphasis is changed.

Even though we recognize the obvious connections to the tra­ dition of nautical imagery in- Goethe's poem, our knowledge of the tradition no longer necessarily constitutes a valuable basis for interpreting the poem correctly. Critics normally explain the meaning of "Seefahrt" autobiographically. Barker Fairly, for example, regards the poem as a transition,piece between Frankfurt

7 and Weimar. If we accept this inference, the meaning of the poem could be: Goethe has been invited by the duke of Weimar to visit his court. I&_the beginning of the poem, Goethe awaits the final arrangements for the trip with his friends who worry about his 186 future. Although they genuinely wish him good luck, they also wish the journey were terminated with Goethe safely returned to £Keir midst again. However, Goethe was not to return. Early in his stay at Weimar, Goethe seems to have forsaken his destiny - that of be­ ing a poet - as he appears to yield to the demands of his new po­ sition in court. Yet, Goethe assures his friends that he iB not being diverted by the "Wechselwinde," and that ultimately he will remain "Treu dem Zweck auch auf dem schiefen Wege."

However, Goethe could have been motivated to write the poem for more personal and complex reasons: the poem may describe his growth from adolescence to maturity; or it may allude to forsaking one style of poetry (storm and stress) for a new style, not yet successfully mastered. The poem may be a tactful message to his friends informing them that their interests - reflected in the motif of the "Kahnfahrt" - are no longer fertile enough to sustain and enrich his maturing poetic spirit. He is no longer content to remain on the safe shore, confined by the limited literary and intellectual borders erected by his circle of friends. By under­ taking this sea voyage, Goethe is breaking out of the confines of his present life in order to explore a higher level of artistic creativity. Regardless of the outcome of his actions, he is pre­ pared to face the consequences.

The "Seefahrt11 is only one example which supports Blume*s theory that after the Baroque period in Germany the meaning of a poem is no longer derived from the traditional interpretation of 18? sea allegories, that the tradition no longer constitutes a reliable aid in decoding sea and ship metaphors. The eighteenth century marks the inception of a movement towards imbuing poetry with more personal symbolic meanings as the poets begin to focus on the individual's relationship to himself, society and the cosmic order in secular terms. It marks the beginning of an emphasis on the individual's self-reliance and ability to shape his own destiny.

Due to these various factors, the seafaring tradition that had do­ minated European literature for centuries came to an end. The classical and patristic schema were no longer able to render ade­ quately the truth of man's perception of reality during the period of Enlightenment. FOOTNOTES

1 Bernhard Blume, "Die Kahnfahrt. Ein Beit rag zur Motiv - J t geschichte dee l8. Jahrhunderts," Euphorion j5, 1961, Heft P. 556. p Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Goethe. Selected Poems, ed. Barker Fairley (Toronto: William Heinemann Ltd., 1959)j pp. 40-M.

3 Ibid., , notes p. 207-

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Harsdorffer, Georg Philip. Hertzbewegliche Sonntasandachten; das ist, Bild- Lieder- und Bet-Buchlein, aus den Spruchen“der H. Schrift, nach den Evangeli- und Festtexten verfasset ... Nurnberg: Wolff gang Endter, 16*49-1652.

Hofmannswaldau, Christian Hofmann von. Gedichte, ed. Johannes Htibner. Berlin: Karl H. Henssel, 19&2.

Logau, Friedrich Freiherr von. (Ps. Salomon von Golaw) Deutscher Sinn-Getichte drey tausend .... Bresslaw: In Verlegung Caspar Klossmanns/ gedruckt in der Baumannischen Druckerey durch Gottfried Griindern, 165*4-.

Lohenstein, Daniel CaBper von. D. C. von Lohenstein Lob-Rede bey ... Herrn Christians von Hofmannswaldau ... Leich-Be- gangnusse. (Breslau?)Auf Unkosten EsaiaFellgiebels sel, Wittib und Erben, 1679•

. Gedichte, ed. Gerd Henninger. Berlin: Karl H. Henssel, 19&1. 191

Neukirch, Benjamin. Benjamin Neukirchs Anthologie H e r m von Hof­ mann sv/aldau und andrer Deutachen auserlesener und bisher un- gedruckter Gedichte, eds. Angelo George de Capua and Ernst Alfred Ehilippson. 3 vols. Tubingen: Niemeyer, 1961.

Opitz, Martin. Geaammelte Werke, vol. 1. Bie Werke von l6l*t-l621, ed. Georg Schulz-Behrend. Stuttgart: A. Hieraemann, 1968.

. Buch von der Deutachen Poeterey. Jn welchem alle jhre eigenschafft vnd zuegehor grundtlich erzehlet/ vnd mit exempeln auBgefuhret wird, 162^ rpt. Tubingen: Niemeyer, 195fT

. Martini Opicii Teutsche Poemata, vnd Aristarchus wieder die Verachtung teutscher Sprach, item Verteutschung Danielis Heinaij Lobgeaang Ieau Christi, vnd Hymni in Bachum; aampt einem Anhang tnehr auserleasener Getichte anderer teutscher Poeten. Der gleichen in dieser Sprach hiebeuor nicht auss kommen. Straasburg: Eberhard Zetzner, 1^24.

. Martini Opitii Acht [xe. FUnfJ Bucher, deutacher Poematum durch ihn selber herausgegeben auch also vermehret vnnd vbersehen, das die vorigen darmitte nicht zu uergleichen sindt. Bresalaw: David Muller, 1625*

. Von der Welt Eitelkeit. Aus dem Frantzosichen. Colophon. Bresslaw: David Muller, 1&29.

. ... Deutacher Poematum ... zum andern Mai vermehrt vbersehen herauss gegeben. Bresslaw: David Muller, 1629•

. ... Schafferey von der Nimfen Hercinie. Bresslaw: David Muller, l630»

. Geistliche Poemata, 1638, ed. Erich Trunz. rpt. Tubingen: Niemeyer, 1966.

. Die Episteln der Sontage vnd furnemsten Feste des gantzen Jahrs, auff die Weisen der franzosichen Psalmen in Lieder gefasset von Martin Opitzen. Dantzigk: Andream Hunefeld, 1639.

. ... Deutsche Poemata auffs newe ubersehen, vermehret und herausgegeben. Danzig, lS^O.

. Martini Opitij Weltliche poemata, zum viertenmal ver­ mehret vnd vbersehen herraus gegeben. Franckfurt: T. M. Gotzen, l£Mf. 192

Rist, Johannes. Johannis Ristii Holsati poetischer Lust-Garte, da ist: allerhand anmuhtige Gedichte auch wahrhafftige Qe- schichte ... alien teutschen Poeterie vemunftigen Liebhabem zu sontferbaren Befallen hervor vnnd an den Tag gegeben. Hamburg: J. Rebenlein, I638.

. Johann Risten Poetischer Schauplatz, auff welchem aller- hand~Waaren ... zu finden. Hamburg: Heinrich We m e m , 16^5.

. Johann: Risten H. P. himlischer Lieder mit sehr anmuhtigen/ von Herrn Johann: Schopen7"dero loblichen Stadt Hamburg Canellmeistem ffesetzen Melodeyen. Das erste (fitnffte und letzte) Zehn Luneburg: Johann und Heinrich Sternen, 15^8-1650.

______. Neuer himlischer Lieder sonderbares Buch/ ... Aussge- fertiget und hervor gegeben von Johann Rist. Luneburg: J. H. Sternen, 1S5I.

. Sabbahtische seelenlust/ dasB ist: Lehr-trost-ver- mahnung- und warnungsreiche lieder uber alio sontagliche Evangelien deB gantzen .jahrea/ welche/ bo wol auf bekante/ und in reinen evangelischen kirchen gebrauchliche/^also auch gantz neue/ vom herren Thoma Sellio/bei der hochloblichen statt Hamburg bestaltem cantore/ wolgeBetzete mdodeien korinen geBUngen und geBpielet werden/ Gott zu ehren und christlichen hertzen zu nutzlicher erbauung abgefasset und heraus gegeben von Johann Rist. Luneburg: die Sternen, 1651.

. Neiier teutscher Parnass/ auff welchea beflndlich Bir' und Lehr, Schertz und Schraertz, Leid- und Freuden-Gewachse/ welche zu unterschiedlichen Zeiten gepflantzet/ nunmehr aber Allen7 der teutschen Hel'den-Sprache und deroselben edlen Dlchtkunat vemimfftigen Liebhaberen/ zu son der bar 6 m Qefallen zu Hauffe gesamlet und in die offenbahre Welt aussgestreuet/ von Johann Risten. Luneburg: Johann und Heinrich/ denen Sternen Gebriidem, 1652.

______. Frommer und gottseliger Christen alltagliche Haussmusik/ oder musikalische Andachten/ bestehend in mancherlei ... gantz neuen7~geistlichen Liederen und Qesangen/ welche ... auf gahr neue/ von dem furtreflichem und weiberuhmten Musico/ Herrn Johann Schopen/ wol-und anmuhtig-gesetzte Helodien fuglich gesungen und gespielt werden/ ... aufgesetzet und hervor ge­ geben von Johann Rist. Luneburg: Johann und Heinrich Stem, W iT

. Nerres musikalischesSeelenparadis/ in sich begrejffend die allerfurtreflichste Spriiche der heiligen Schrifft/ Alten Testaments/ in gantz lehr- und trostreichen Liederen ... von 193

Johann Rist. Luneburg: die Sternen, 1660.

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